


Louisiana Lovin'

by Poetgirl616



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetgirl616/pseuds/Poetgirl616
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abilene never planned on the dead coming back to eat and infect the living. In a world where you have to keep moving to survive, she will have to learn who to trust. Love was definitely not on her agenda. So why did the gruff, sleeveless Hunter peak her interest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Highway

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead.**

**_Prologue: Highway_ **

Abilene May Pickens sighed, fanning herself in the Georgia heat. It had taken two months to travel this far.

Two months too long, in her opinion.

Willy, her brother in heart and name, had done all he could to make the journey as smooth and comfortable as possible.

The result was a slower pace.

Abilene rubbed a hand along her swollen abdomen, just four more months to go. Then she could finally see her little one.

The thought brought a smile to the twenty two year old's face.

Willy cursed next to her, his beat up Chevy crawling to a stop. The highway was caught up in a big snarl. Abandoned cars on both sides.

"What do we do now?" She asked, worrying her lip.

"I'll get out an' try ta find somewhere ta spend the night. Ya stay put, holler if ya need me." Willy answered, his southern accent thick and warm. He grabbed the rifle, handing her the pistol before sliding our of the drivers seat. 

It was their tradition for situations like this. A horde could show up at any time. 

"Be careful," she murmured.

Abilene waited in the truck, holding the pistol for dear life. Anxiety filled her when Willy didn't come back after half an hour.

Her stomach rumbled hungrily and her bladder protested being ignored.

Stay and take the chance of peeing own her leg, or hop out for a bathroom break.

A good, solid kick from the little one made up her mind.

She opened the passenger door as quietly as she could and carefully exited the truck. A bit of brush over the side railing would make as good a place as any for a quick pee.

Abilene was no fool, she kept the pistol ready even with her comfortable maternity yoga pants around her ankles.

She made her way back to the highway and sighed when she accidentally went too far up. The truck was a few yards down.

This is why she was uncomfortable in places like this. 

She caught sight of a minivan with an open trunk. A small bit of a baby carrier was visible in the back seat.

Curious, she shifted through the items in the trunk.

She held up a pair of baby shoes. Looking a little further, she found onesies and diapers. She folded the onesies and held them in one arm.

Rooting through the front of the vehicle, she found the empty baby carrier, covered in plastic. Three bottles of adult pain killers. Six bottles of children's medicines, each. Five rolls of gauze, bandages, and a suture kit. Ten bottles of water, six cans of soup, granola bars and a cigarette tube box of prenatal vitamins.

Relief flooded the young mother to be. She had lost hers during the outbreak.

She arranged her findings in a diaper bag, what she couldn't fit in it, she placed in a cloth Wal-Mart bag.

Abilene strolled happily back to the truck, she had done well. She and Willy had more supplies, extras in case they couldn't find any later.

She frowned, her good mood dimming when she didn't see her brother by or in the truck.

"There ya are. Damn it, Abilene, I was gettin' worried about ya." Willy walked around her, grasping her arm and pulling her toward the truck. "Where the hell did ya go, anyway?"

"I found some supplies. Look, Willy, I was able to scrounge up some stuff for the baby." Abilene reached into the diaper bag and held up a onesie for him to see.

Willy's face softened. "That's great, jus' don' wander off next time. I'll do the searchin'."

"There's a baby carrier where I found all this. Could we bring it with us, Willy?" She asked hopefully.

He sighed. "Alright. Put this in the truck, first, an' then we'll go get that carrier."

She grinned, happy. "Thank you, Willy."


	2. Safe Haven

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead.**

_**~Safe Haven~** _

Willy pulled up to a beautiful farm with a large white house. "What d'ya think?"

"Oh, Willy, this is perfect." I squealed happily. It was so pretty. "Help me down so we can get settled."

"Now hold on, I need to do a sweep first." He replied, unbuckling his seat belt.

"Thinking about becoming a housekeeper?" I cracked, hiding a smile in my water bottle. 

He opened his mouth, but was cut off when an older gentleman, a man and two women exited the house. The younger man looked to be in his thirties or forties, heavily built. One of the ladies was in her twenties and the other must have been in her thirties to forties.

I turned to Willy, frowning. I thought he had cleared the house. He hadn't mentioned a group of the living already residing here.

Why wouldn't he tell me about them?

Speaking of my brother, he grabbed the shotgun, as a precaution, hopping out of the truck. "Stay here, Abilene."

"Willy!" I whispered urgently. Anxiety and fear surged in me. I didn't want to be left in the truck by myself.

He walked forward, gun held loosely in his right hand, pointing at the ground as he headed to the porch.

I watched, helpless, as the only family and protection I had strolled up onto the porch. The older gentleman opened his mouth and words were exchanged.

Willy gestured to the truck a few times, his back to me and his body language protective, but not hostile. That was a good sign, I suppose.

I shifted, my stomach rumbling loudly. The little one moved, something I was still becoming accustomed to.

All the supplies were in the bed of the truck. I'd already gone through the snacks Willy had stashed in the glove box for me. I rubbed my swollen stomach, hoping whatever negotiations the residents and Willy were conducting would be over soon.

Willy nodded to something the older man said and jogged back to the truck. He came around to my side of the truck and reached for me.

"What's going on?" I asked, curious and nervous. Not to mention hungry.

I wanted something salty. 

"Herschel has agreed ta let us stay 'til a few months after the baby is born. Imma help with farm chores an' manual work 'round the property." Willy explained, helping me down.

"And me?" I checked, worrying my lip.

What could I do that would go against my lifting restrictions?

"The women agreed tha' you'd help gather eggs an' do some cookin', gather vegetables. Simple stuff tha' won' put too much strain on eitha of ya." He replied easily.

"Hey, Willy, could you grab one of the containers from the back? The little one is hungry." I shot him a small, sheepish smile.

He chuckled, undoing the tarp and taking out a container of homemade jerky.

"Ooh. Jerky." I immediately opened the container and nibbled on a strip.

Willy shook his head, smiling fondly as he led me to the house.

"Hello there. You must be Abilene." The older gentleman, Herschel, greeted. "I am Herschel. My daughters, Maggie and Beth. That is Otis and his wife Patricia. The shy young man over there is Jimmy."

"Hello." I murmured, blushing when I realized that I was pigging out on jerky in front of them. "Sorry about my lack of table manners, the little one got hungry."

"Let's get you set up in the guest room. Dinner is at six. You can started on your chores tomorrow." Herschel walked into the house.

"Follow me." The pretty brunette, Maggie, said.

We followed her into the house.

I was floored. The inside was gorgeous. 

It was southern influenced, but not tacky. There was a mix of modern and traditional that blended very beautifully.

I particularly loved the dining room.

The guest room was modest and clean. The theme a kind of small flower pattern.

"It's pretty. I like it." I smiled, sitting on the bed. "Thank you, Maggie."

"Since y'all ain't married, he has to sleep seperate. Daddy put him in the other guest room." The brunette replied seriously.

"Where is that?" I whispered, anxious. How far away would he be?

"Just a little ways. You'll see each other durin' the day." She ushered Willy out of the door without giving us a chance to say anything.

What on Earth? How was I supposed to sleep without hearing my brothers snoring somewhere close by? Over the past two months, I'd become used to his snoring being close to me. I didn't even know where the other guest room was. What if I needed to talk to him and it couldn't wait until morning?

I rubbed my baby bump, worrying my lip. The sun was receding, the sky a pretty variety of color.

A knock on my door distracted me from my observations.

"Come in." I called.

Beth poked her head inside. "Dinner is ready."

"I'll be down in a few minutes." I replied. It took me longer to descend stairs safely now that I'd grown in size.

She left, a curious look on her face but she must have thought it impolite to ask.

I hefted myself onto my feet, tracing our previous path and made my way carefully down the stairs. I tried not to become frustrated with the fact that it was taking so long. I hated making others wait on me.

I finally entered the dining room. Everyone was already seated, which worsened the guilt of them waiting for me.

"I'm sorry for making all of you wait for me." I murmured, blushing in embarrassment.

"Come're an' sit down." Will pulled out the chair beside him.

I took the seat. The dining room smelled absolutely heavenly. "Dinner smells amazing."

"Patricia and the girls have always been exceptional cooks." Otis declared, kissing his wife's hand.

"Aww." I cooed, smiling at the couple as she blushed. It was so sweet.

The platters were passed, soon nothing was heard but polite requests and the clink of silverware.

The baked chicken was juicy and tender, falling apart in my mouth as flavor burst on my tongue. I hummed and ate my portion greedily. The mashed potatoes and gravy was the best I'd had since Willy's mother passed four years ago.

"Wow! Otis was right. That was fantastic!" I exclaimed, happily stuffed with great food.

"Thank you kindly." Patricia smiled at me.

I helped gather dishes and I learned more about the girls as we washed up. Their mother had passed when they were younger. Their father married another woman and they had a step brother.

Sadly, neither made it through the outbreak.

I was genuinely sad that they lost two mother figures as well as their step brother. It couldn't have been easy.

Soon after, we all said good night and left for our seperate rooms to sleep.

We all had chores to do in the morning.


	3. Chores

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead.**

_**~Chores~** _

It had been a week since Willy and I had found the Greene farm, our new sanctuary, and taken in by the family.

The first day of chores had been a little rough on me, since I wasn't used to standing or walking for long lengths of time.

It was better now that I had time to become used to the work.

My chores consisted of helping cook, wash dishes or laundry, and feed the chickens. I also fetched eggs, did a little scrubbing on things I could reach standing up, and pulled vegetables from the gardens.

I was allowed to help with the garden with supervision. Herschel and Willy were concerned about dehydration.

Herschel took care of monitoring my blood pressure and checking on the baby's heartbeat at least three times a day.

I was thankful that the veterinarian was willing to check on the little one. He considered his or her health one of the few items on top priority.

Herschel and his family had done so much for me and Willy. We'd be forever grateful to them.

I sighed, rubbing my lower back as it protested, ending my contemplation. I shook more of the feed onto the ground around the coop.

I was almost done, six more handfuls and I could rest for a short time.

Willy and Jimmy were doing some hauling. Patricia and Beth were straightening up in the house. Maggie had gone for a medical supply run on one of the horses.

Horses. That's another thing I loved about living on a farm.

The boys exercised the horses and messed with the cattle. They did the plowing as well.

Herschel planted the seeds and watered the crops by hand when it didn't rain enough.

I finished feeding the chickens and waddled to the porch to sit in the chair Willy had set out for me.

I took the moment of quiet to think.

I was lucky that the Pickens family decided to adopt me. Many couples peeked at my file and immediately went for another kid. The few that did boarder me only took me in for the fat check they'd get for taking care of me.

Mark and Lauren Pickens were different. They genuinely wanted me, not because I brought in money.

I was eight when they adopted me. That was so long ago.

I was in my twenties now.

"Abilene, Herschel wants you to tend the garden some more today." Otis informed me, breaking me out of my thoughts of the past.

"Alright." I replied, lifting myself out of the chair.

I walked to the gardens, determined to leave the thoughts of the past behind me, sitting on the porch.

I donned my gardening gloves and the necessary tools, sliding the handle of the wicker basket I used for the vegetable up my arm until it rested comfortably just beneath my elbow. Satisfied with my preparations, I turned and began walking in the direction of the vegetable garden.

I carefully lowered myself down and began to work the soil, picking out any weeds I found and rocks that had been accidentally tossed in. A few carrots and beets were ready to be uprooted, so I placed those in the basket to take to the kitchen.

Once I was finished tending the garden, I stood and took the basket in to clean the vegetables.

I removed the gloves and placed the tools neatly on the porch before entering the house.

Herschel was sitting at the dining room table eating a sandwhich and drinking home squeezed juice from things we grew in the garden.

I made a face at the smell of mustard. My sensitive nose really disliked the condiment.

I grimaced when a bit oozed out of the sandwhich and plopped onto the plate underneath it.

Ew.

What did people _see_ in the stuff? It's a bright yellow, it's thick and it smells absolutely horrible.

I shuddered, fighting a wave of nasuea.

I quickened my pace to the kitchen, waving at the veterinarian as I passed him.

I wasted no time washing the carrots and beets, placing them in the plastic bags they have at the grocery store. Maggie brought two large rolls of them home on one of her runs to town a few days ago. They helped a great deal when it came to storing perishables until dinner time in this heat.

I replaced the wicker basket on my arm and grabbed the wire basket for eggs before turning from the kitchen. I left the house, tossing a good afternoon over my shoulder as I passed the dining room.

I dropped the wicker basket in a corner of the porch and strolled to the coop to see if I could gather any eggs today.

I found the coop busy, all the hens on the farm were inside laying on their nests.

 _Perfect._ I thought, grinning.

I entered through the human sized door, walking to the left side of the coop first. I went down the rows in order, checking under every chickens rear.

I had done good. I found at least a dozen eggs today. I mentally cheered at my good luck.

Herschel had made it a rule that we were only to collect half the eggs we find so the cycle of life could continue as it was meant to. This meant we had to be extra careful to keep track of who collects, when we collect, and how often we collect.

I write my findings, as well as the date and time of my visit on the clipboard hanging on the outside of the coop.

I hummed a happy little song from my time with the Pickens as I walked the eggs to the house.

It was hard not to be in a good mood. Only two walkers had been spotted near the farm after Willy and I arrived. There hadn't been any other sightings since.

It was safe here.

I could build a life here with my baby.

How could I not be happy?

"Honestly, I didn't know what to do. Willy is sitting in the boat, leaning back and his fishing rod is bent. He's screaming and hollering, I can't tell if he's talking to me or the fish!" I exclaimed, laughing.

"I was talkin' ta ya." Willy replied, frowning.

"You kept hollering 'git over here! C'mon!' How was I supposed to know you meant me?" I countered.

"I told ya to grab the net!" He exclaimed, stabbing his fork into some mashed potatoes.

"You did not!" I smacked his arm when he nodded his head. "You did no such thing Willy Ray Pickens."

The Greene family laughed at our expense. Otis and Patricia shook their heads and smiled.

It was nice, to just sit at the table during dinner and enjoy ourselves.

Our time on the road was always serious. Willy had to be alert and focused the entire time to keep us alive.

"Fine. Yer right an' I'm wrong." My southern brother finally admitted, grumbling and stirring his food on his plate.

I smiled. I hadn't seen him relaxed enough to do that in a long time.

"Thank you for conceding defeat graciously." I teased, nudging his shoulder with mine.

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, Jimmy, how were the cattle this afternoon?" Herschel inquired, bringing the soft serious note back to the table.

"Alright. A few tried to fight, but none escaped." The young man answered, taking a sip of his iced tea.

I glanced at my glass of ice water dismally. Healthy and smart, but boring after a while.

I missed iced tea, sweet tea, soda pop. Oh, good Lord did I miss soda pop! Fizzy calories of flavor!

My mouth watered at the thought of the delicious fizzy delight.

"Abilene?" Herschel's voice broke through the fog.

I snapped out of my thoughts, realizing I'd been staring at Jimmy's glass of tea.

"Hmm?" I hummed, returning my attention to the others at the table.

"Are you feeling alright?" The older man asked, probably repeating a question I hadn't heard the first who knows how many times.

"Yeah, I was thinking about a few things." I shook my head, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to zone out on you guys like that."

"It's alright, as long as you're feeling well." He replied kindly.

We all took turns talking about our day, sharing a few stories that were appropriate for the dinner table.

Maggie reported that there were less walkers in town and there were also less medical supplies in the pharmacy she goes to for Herschel.

Good news followed by bad.

We resolved to speak more on the matter when the time came. For now, Maggie would continue to run to the pharmacy for anything we needed.

The rest of the evening was uninteresting. The dishes were done in silence, every one tuckered out after the day.

I dressed in a comfortable pretty pink nightgown Maggie brought back for me. I said my nightly prayers and got into bed, leaning back a little at a time.

I was out before I felt my head touch the pillow.


	4. Hunting Trip

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead.**

I shifted in bed, blinking my eyes open and hissing when blinding sunlight shone into them.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The urgent call of my bladder had me throwing back the covers and walking as fast as possible across the hall to the nearest bathroom.

Once my bladder was relieved, I noticed something else.

The ache I'd had that meant I really had to pee was still there.

I frowned, concentrating on remembering if the little one had been active any last night.

I had felt kicks and movement every so often after I fell asleep, waking me up a few times. Most of the time I fell back to sleep almost immediately.

Relief flooded me. My little one had moved, so it couldn't be too concerning.

I didn't feel very rested, though, even after sleeping most of the night. Maybe a little more sleep would help.

I lay down, stroking my abdomen lightly.

* * *

 

I was growing more concerned.

As the days progressed, I realized I was becoming more tired every morning I woke.

I was having more difficulty performing my chores as well.

Herschel and Willy were really getting worried. They weren't sure what was happening. The vet studied every chance he could so he could find answers.

He finally told me to stay in bed unless someone came to assist me on a walk around the house every hour and a half.

Willy took over my portion of the egg gathering and helped wash dishes.

Patricia and the girls picked up my slack on the other chores.

I felt guilty about the others needing to take over my chores as well as do their own, but I couldn't help my condition.

I was beginning to feel helpless and my mood sank.

* * *

 

I shifted in bed, trying to ignore my fatigue.

I glanced out the window, the scene never changing. I had a view of the south guard, behind the house. It had been cared for, but no one messed around back there.

My mind drifted into the past against my wishes. The memories further darkening my dreary mood.

_Dark._

_There was no light shining under the door, no streetlights to shine through the window._

_Darkness. Inky black that coated everything._

_Shivering._

_It's so cold._

_A flimsy, filthy, tattered paper thin sheet._

_Footsteps._

_No. Please no._

_Voices._

_Laughter._

_Footsteps thud on the stairs._

_Cccrrreeaakkkkk._

_The door. Not the door._

_No. Please._

_The footsteps were coming for her._

_Warm, putrid breath._

_Heavy weight pressing down on her._

_NO!_

I shoved the memory out as hard as I could, forcing it away.

I didn't want to remember.

I sucked in unsteady breaths, trembling. I wiped at my cheeks, the wetness a sign that I'd been crying.

Damn it. I mentally cursed, upset with myself for letting the memory get to me.

I pushed myself up further, so my head and back rested on the headboard. I pulled the blankets tighter around me, pausing when I caught sight of my bare left arm.

No, bare wouldn't be the correct word. It was covered.

Covered with scars.

Round, circular marks dotted the skin. Slightly discolored, raised pink scars.

I stared, tracing the length of my arm. Dozens of scars littered my skin from wrist to elbow. They were spaced out and placed randomly, no rhyme or reason behind their placing.

I turned my face away and yanked my sleeve down, hiding the marks.

They were disgusting.

They were reminders of a past I'd rather bury at the center of the Earth.

A knock on the door interrupted my moody musing.

"Abilene? May I come in?" Herschel called from the other side.

"Yes." I called back.

He had increased his check ups since I hadn't been one hundred percent.

He gently prodded along my abdomen, humming thoughtfully. He took my blood pressure and listened to my heart beat. He did his best to listen to the baby's heartbeat.

There was no change to report.

My pressure was slightly higher than he was comfortable with and he still couldn't hear the baby's heartbeat.

Herschel pat my shoulder in a comforting manner before he left.

I cried for a bit.

The events of the past two weeks were getting to me.

I didn't know what was wrong with me. I couldn't make sure my baby was completely healthy like I really wanted to.

My only comfort was that my little one still kicked me and moved around.

 _I won't let anything happen to you_. I promised my little one, pressing a kiss to my hand and rubbed it over my baby bump. "Mommy loves you very, very much."

"Can I come in?" A familiar friendly southern voice asked.

"Get in here." I yelled back, rolling my eyes. "It's not like I don't know who you are, goof."

Willy popped in, grinning. "How ya feelin'?"

I sighed, settling back a little in bed. "No change. Herschel still can't hear the heartbeat."

"Hey. I'm sure everythin' is fine." He reassured me, rubbing soothing circles on my hand.

"How can you know that?" I whispered.

How could he possibly know anything to do with this pregnancy? I asked myself. Anything could be happening to us. To him. What if I miscarry?

The thought alone brought tears to my eyes and made my heart clench.

"Ya gotta have faith, Abilene. He's made it this far, I'd be willin' ta bet he'll still be here when the time comes ta meet ya fer the first time." Willy reassured me, patting my hand.

"Not necessarily." I murmured.

"Try ta keep from gettin too upset, Abi. It isn't good fer either of ya."

"Can't promise anything."

"Just try."

"Okay."

"Want some beef jerky?" Willy asked, withdrawing a Ziploc bag with six pieces from his back pocket.

I perked up, smiling. I always had a soft spot for beef jerky.

He chuckled, handing the bag over to me. "I thought so."

I nibbled on my jerkey. "How was your day?"

"Had better days. The cattle and horses been actin up." He replied sourly.

I hummed sympathetically and pat his hand.

It wasn't easy for him to be doing extra work. Guilt sunk its claws into my chest and twisted my stomach.

"Jimmy got struck by one of the horses today."

"Is he alright?"

"Herschel says it wasn't too serious, thank goodness. He has to rest until tomorrow though, to be sure."

That did not make me very happy. Willy picked up on it but I spoke before he could.

"So you're picking up his slack today. You're working even harder than you were." I narrowed my eyes, my temper flaring. "You've been doing more than enough. It's bad as it is that I can't do my share, so you have to pick up my end. I already hate that, but now you have even more to do."

"Abilene, its fine. I want to earn our keep. You need the rest, now more than you did." He met my eyes, his serious and concerned. "I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

I melted, my anger dissipating quickly. Damn him, but it was difficult to stay upset when he did that.

I sighed, nudging him with a swollen foot.

He grinned, knowing full well that he won.

"Sleep. I'll wake you for dinner." He kissed my forehead and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I took his advice and settled down to take a short nap.

* * *

 I joined the rest of the household for dinner. A plump roasted ham topped with glistening pineapple slices and cherries. Side dishes included mashed potatoes, green beans and baked spinach.

Wait. . . . No. Not every one was present, I realized.

I frowned, glancing around the table. "Where is Otis?"

Beth met my eyes, passing the green beans to Jimmy. "He is packing all the supplies he needs for his hunting trip in the morning."

"Hunting trip?" I echoed, confused.

"Yes. We have run low on the live stock daddy has set aside for slaughter. To ease the burden, Otis Jimmy and Willy are taking turns hunting." She replied, glancing at Jimmy.

I turned to Willy. "Oh is he? When were you going to tell me this?"

"It ain't a big deal, Abilene. I'll have a shotgun an' knives ta protect myself, I'll never stay out past dark an' I'll always come back ta ya." He promised, his brown eyes sincere.

I nodded, returning my attention to the food, though my appetite had dissipated.


	5. Who's That?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead or anything to do with it. I do not make any money in the making of this story.**

**Who's That?**

I dreamt of gunshots.

I blinked, opening my eyes as I was pulled from sleep. The sunshine was bright and the direction of the shadows told me it had to be about noon.

Maybe two o'clock?

I gasped at the realization that I'd slept over ten hours.

 _Holy crap!_ I thought, going for the bathroom.

My bathroom was pink pan and support toilet Maggie had provided for less chance of. . .accidents.

Okay, so I'd accidentally peed on myself a few times when I couldn't get to the restroom fast enough. It was embarrassing.

Willy had taken it upon himself to empty my pan when I didn't feel well enough to. Lucky for him, I felt a bit better today.

I grabbed the pink pan of pee and dumped it in the nearest toilet. I rinsed it out in the tub and went back to my room.

I sighed, sitting on the bed. My energy was gone.

I still felt better, just less energetic.

A rhythmic knock announced the arrival of a familiar face.

"Get in here, goofball." I called, rolling my eyes and shaking my head fondly.

"How ya feelin'?" Willy asked, coming to sit at the edge of my bed. I grinned when I saw the covered plate in his hands.

Of course, I immediately accepted it and dig in.

"I'm feeling a small bit better. I can't believe I slept so late, though. Why didn't you wake me for breakfast?" I asked, smacking his arm.

"You an' the young'n need the rest." He replied, rubbing a hand on my protruding stomach.

A door nearby shut and an unfamiliar voice passed my room.

I raised my eyebrows and turned to my brother. "What have I missed while I slept?"

His grin fell and his eyes lost their happy sparkle.

"A boy arrived this morning. Otis accidentally shot him during his hunt today." He responded, his voice low.

I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth.

 _That was terrible! The poor little boy!_ I couldn't imagine anything like that happening.

"Oh. That poor boy. Otis must be beside himself with guilt." I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

They were for the boy. They were for his surviving family. They were for the sweet man I _knew_ was sick with guilt and shame over the accident.

"Otis has offered to collect the supplies Herschel needs ta save the child."

"Where would he get medical supplies? The hospitals were closed or raided."

"The high school. There was a center set up, ambulances an' medical personnel. Otis can grab everythin' he needs from them. He may even be able ta get more than is needed."

"Willy, the high school was overrun."

"It's possible it cleared out by now."

I shook my head, concerned. I had a bad feeling about this.

In a world where the dead eat the living, walking in blind to loot a place will end in death. Always.

* * *

I walked laps around the inside of the house. Herschel had approved extra walk time today.

I hadn't seen or heard from a soul since I'd left my room.

Otis had left to make a grab for the supplies. My worry was still very much present, persistent, even.

I bit my lip, grabbing a tray with a few slices of fresh ham a wedge of cheese and a glass of ice water before heading back to my room.

I politely ignored any sounds I heard on the way to my room. It wasn't my business what went on in the other guest rooms.

Maggie had brought some books in for me. I was in the process of reading one called Never Cry Wolf.

It was. . .intriguing.

I'd always held the belief that books were portal that transported you wherever and whenever someone wanted to go.

I learned at least one new word each time I read.

I smiled at my baby bump. I would procure as many books as I could for my little one. I'd teach my child all that books could be.

I frowned when I heard a loud thump downstairs. Weeping followed immediately after.

I sucked in a sharp breath. _No._

The door opened and my head jerked up. Willy walked in and closed the door, leaning against it with his head down.

"Willy?" I murmured, dread dropping in my stomach like a ton of lead.

He lifted his head and unshed tears shone in his eyes.

I shook my head, sobs clawing their way up my throat.

No. No, no. Please God, no.

 _Otis_.

* * *

"The boy made it through the surgery alright." Willy murmured softly from his spot next to me.

I'd curled up in bed and had been crying since I'd heard the news. I'd only known Otis for seven weeks, but they counted to me.

Otis was a sweet man. He had a gentle soul. He had treated me with kindness and respect, accepted me even after hearing the news about my child's father.

He didn't deserve to be eaten alive by those things.

I wiped my cheeks and sat up in bed. "I'm glad the boy is alive and recovering, I am, but we lost someone we know. Otis was a good man, Willy, he didn't deserve what happened to him."

I know how horrible it seemed to not join in the happiness. I had nothing against the child, I was relieved he'd survived, truly.

However, I couldn't pretend I hadn't suffered a loss.

Willy pulled me to him, cradling me against his side. "I know. I'm not gonna tell ya that yer wrong or that yer bein' sad is wrong. We did lose someone we knew. It's alright ta cry, Abilene."

I did.

Willy held me the rest of the night.

* * *

I opened my eyes to sunlight.

A new day.

I closed my eyes, willing yesterday to have never happened. I knew it was useless, but I willed it to be anyway.

Herschel was going to perform a burial ceremony with stones for Otis today.

It was the best we could do since we didn't have his body.

I sluggishly reached for the bed pan and released the pressure on my bladder.

I placed it on the floor beside the nightstand to prevent from knocking it over. The last thing I needed or wanted was to spill urine on the floor.

I attempted to sit up, but my arms wouldn't cooperate. My energy level was at its lower points.

A rapping on the door frame announced Maggie's presence. "Hey, are you coming down?"

I sighed. "I haven't improved. I attempted to sit up just now. As you can clearly see, nothing happened."

"Daddy said if you didn't feel up to it you shouldn't go down. He doesn't want you to push yourself too hard." The brunette responded, bending down to grab my bed pan. "I'll empty this for you before I go out."

"Thank you." I murmured quietly.

It was true, I really didn't feel up to walking down the stairs required to go outside.

If I can't witness the burial in person, I'll just have to listen to it. I thought, nodding my head resolutely.

It would take a while for them to prepare. Herschel and the others would have to gather all the stones they'd use before they could begin.

I selected a more morose book from the collection and lay back on my elevated pile of pillows.

A loud engine and two quieter engines drew my attention from my novel.

 _What the heck was that?_ I wondered, listening. _No one went out for a supply run._

Footsteps descended the stairs and the front door was opened.

Voices drifted up, but they were a bit distorted. I couldn't make out what was being said.

I shrugged and turned back to my book.

I had read three more sad novels by the time noon struck and the squeaking of the wheelbarrow tires could be heard as the stones were brought to the site.

I started when my door opened.

Willy closed the distance in a few of his strides.

"What are you doing in here? You're going to miss the funeral." I said, burrowing my eyebrows.

Why would he come upstairs?

"I know where I need ta be." He drawled in his southern accent. He drug a chair from the corner and set it beside the bed.

"But the funeral-"

"I can hear it from here, same as ya can." He cut me off, sitting in the chair. "Ya don't need ta be alone up here. There's enough of them down there."

I smiled. Willy Pickens. Always thinking of others before himself.

"Alright. It might get boring up here." I warned him.

"I can handle being in here for an hour." He replied with a snort, playfully nudging me.

Speaking of . . .the little one hasn't nudged, punched or kicked anything yet.

Odd.

I smoothed my hand over my bump. He had been keeping strange hours, so he's probably still sleeping.

I really wish that pee ache would go away already. I mentally grumbled.

I had held it too long last time I went, so I could still feel the pressure on my bladder. I hated when that happened.

I absently rubbed the area, turning the page.

I'd gotten through six more pages when a very warm hand nudged my leg.

"It's time, Herschel's getting ready to start." Willy informed me, standing close to the window.

He'd opened it a few inches half an hour ago so we could hear better.

I tossed my book onto the nightstand and sat up straighter, adjusting my pillows for better support.

"We are gathered today to celebrate the life of a fellow man. Otis Hews. A husband, a friend, a neighbor." Herschel's voice drifted in the open window, a small bit muffled, but still audible.

A sharp ache grew in my side, the same side of had the ache earlier. It had intensified, as it was now intensifying into a sharp pain.

I moaned, biting my lip and clamping my side in my hands.

Crap. Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Gosh darn that hurt.

I cried out against my shoulder when I felt another sharp pain hit my side.

"Abilene?" Willy questioned, moving away from the window. "Are ya okay?"

I shook my head, tears leaking from my eyes. "My side. It hurts, dear God it hurts so much. Ahhh."

His eyes widened. "I'll get Herschel."

He ran out of the room, his thundering footsteps echoing through the house.

 _Please hurry_. I pleaded in my mind. **_Please_**.

* * *

Daryl P. O. V

The old guy, Horace? Herman?

The old guy was finishing up the service for that guy they lost. The stones had been stacked and mushy shit had been said about him.

Movement in the corner of my eye had me turning toward the house.

A man burst through the door, barreling down the stairs toward the group. "Herschel!" He said when he'd gotten closer.

He stopped right in front of the old man, chest heaving, an almost panicked look in his eyes. "It's happening again."

'Herschel' changed his posture once those words were said. I didn't like the look he got in his eyes. I'd seen that look too many times in this group when things got bad.

Lori must've picked up on it as well. "Is it Carl?"

"No." He responded, handing the bible to the older gal and rolled up his sleeves. He started to walk away at a quick pace. "Maggie, Beth, I'm going to need your hands."

The brunette and younger blonde followed, jogging to keep up.

The stranger immediately ran to follow.

"What the fuck was that about?" I grit out, pointing to the house.

Lori shifted in place a few seconds and then she too streaked across the lawn.

I shook my head. "Done lost their damn minds."

* * *

Abilene P. O. V.

I sobbed, fear and pain swirling in my mind.

The pain hadn't gone away and I'd also had a terrifying discovery.

My baby still wasn't moving.

I'd pressed and stroked and prodded gently at my little one.

Nothing happened.

 _Please, please, please_. I begged, stroking my baby bump with the hand that wasn't holding my side. _Please, just move once. Please._

I sobbed and squirmed with the pain. The pain in my heart greater than the pain in my side.

The door finally opened and Herschel stepped through.

"It hurts. My side started hurting and the pain kept getting worse." I choked out through the tears. "Please, it hurts so much."

The vet immediately closed the distance to the bed, Maggie and Beth entering the room soon after.

"Beth grab some rags. Maggie get me the pressure cuff and stethoscope." He ordered, gently removing my hands from my abdomen and applying pressure all along my bump.

I cried out when he finally reached the spot that pained me.

Herschel had prodded my entire baby bump and I still hadn't felt so much as a nudge.

The fear and dread worsened, so did the tears.

A tall skinny brunette woman I didn't recognize stood in my doorway staring at me with wide eyes.

"Herschel, he isn't moving! He's not moving! He hasn't moved since yesterday!" I sobbed, hugging my bump.

Maggie brought the stethoscope and pressure cuff. He took my blood pressure, his face betraying his worry. He quickly discarded the pressure cuff and grabbed the stethoscope. He pressed the metal circle against my baby bump and closed his eyes to listen, his eye brows furrowed in concentration.

Herschel sighed and shook his head. "I can pick up a faint heartbeat, but it could be yours since its beating harder and quicker than it should."

Beth returned with a small stack of rags.

He turned to her and murmured something I couldn't hear.

"What? What is it?" I didn't want the vet to keep things from me. I wanted to know what was happening to my baby.

"Your blood pressure is concerning, as is your stress level. I requested a mild sedative to calm you down." He noticed I was about to protest and cut me off. "If your child is still alive, they won't be long with you stressed this much for so long. A sedative is the safest option at this time."

 _If your child is still alive_. The one sentence repeated itself in my mind. If. . .

I shook myself.

I wouldn't think like that. He would be fine, I had to believe that. I would know if he had died, I would've felt it.

I just had a panic attack is all, everything would be fine. Herschel would do all he could.

I didn't fuss when Beth presented Herschel with the needle and he prepared my left arm. I knew he only wanted what was best for us, I trusted him with both of our lives.

I felt the sting and didn't fight the effects of the injection.

I drifted peacefully into the warm embrace of sleep.


	6. Who's That? Part Two

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead or its characters. I do not make any money on this story.**

**Who's That? Part Two**

Dale P. O. V

Lori came out of the house soon after she went inside. Her eyes were wide, her face pale as a sheet and her walk slow, like she couldn't see what was ahead.

Shock.

Whatever had happened in that house had shocked her.

Rick grew concerned, approaching his wife and grabbing her shoulders. "What is it? Did something happen to Carl?"

"It wasn't Carl." She murmured, her voice breathy. "That poor thing. I've never seen. . . I can't even imagine. . ."

"What?" T-Dog asked what we were all thinking. "What are you talkin about?"

"It was someone else. It wasn't Carl." She repeated, continuing to walk toward the tent she shared with Rick.

I could only gather that something had happened in that house. Something that caused such a reaction in her.

It was anyone's guess what that something was.

* * *

Abilene P. O. V

I blinked, my eyelids felt heavy and my head was a little foggy.

"Willy?" I mumbled, my voice sounded weird to my ears.

The last thing I remembered was talking to Herschel, after Willy fetched him for me.

What had I said to him?

"There she is. How do you feel?" Herschel asked, picking up my hand and grasping my wrist gently.

"A little foggy. What happened?" I inquired, frowning.

It took me a second to focus properly. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, facing me.

"You had a bit of trouble with the baby. Willy came to me earlier this afternoon and I did what I could." He answered, his blue eyes and withered face not revealing anything.

In an almost audible click, everything came rushing back.

"What does that mean?" I asked, the pleasant feeling of rest vanishing. "Is he alright? Is he alive?"

"I'm not entirely certain what happened to cause you discomfort. I can tell you that your baby is alive and appears to be unharmed." He smiled at my relieved exclamation. "You have improved, so I believe whatever had ailed you has passed. Quite possibly corrected itself."

"I can't thank you enough, Herschel." I gave him a watery smile.

He pat my hand and stood, leaving the room.

My chest was filled to the brim with swirling emotions. Elation and relief won the race.

My baby was alive!

I pressed multiple kisses to my baby bump. "I love you. I'm so happy that you're safe."

I didn't care that anyone could walk in and stare at me like I was crazy for talking to my baby bump. I felt it was natural. The others didn't like it, they could leave the room.

"I heard someone was feelin' better." Jimmy smiled at me. "I'm glad you and your baby's okay."

"Thank you, Jimmy, that's sweet." I smiled in return.

"I'll leave you to your rest." He waved, blushed and left the room.

Okay then. . .

I was a bit confused by Jimmy's behavior. Then I was struck by a lightning bolt. I suspect he was thinking about Beth and babies at the same time.

I giggled, imagining Herschel's reaction to the events.

He would not be a very happy daddy, but he would likely recover and things would return to normal soon after.

I glanced at the doorway and remembered the woman I'd caught staring at me. Who was she? Another good question entered my mind. What was she doing on the farm?

* * *

I had been allowed to walk a few laps around my room, but couldn't walk up and down stairs.

Doctors orders.

I made a face at that thought. I didn't want to be stuck up here for another week or worse, even longer.

I had spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, reading or talking to my little one.

I had thought about how I had called my baby a 'he.' I had no way of confirming the gender, so why had I been convinced that he was a he?

Could it have been mother's intuition that pushed me?

Nah. It wasn't that.

Maybe I'd never know what it had been. I was alright with that, because we were alive.

"Knock, knock." A very familiar southern voice twanged from my doorway.

"Come in here, dork." I called, laughing at his antics.

"Okay, so yer feelin' better, that's awesome." He grinned, crossing the room in a few quick strides and leaning down to kiss my forehead. "No discomfort?"

"None." I answered, shaking my head.

"That's great." He paused, shifting on his feet subtly. The fingers of his left hand twitched.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the reveal of his nervous tell. Something was up.

"So, I was thinking that since yer feelin' better that I could do some errands." He began, eyeing my reaction carefully. "I know we're runnin' low on a lot of things, and-"

Realization dawned.

"You're going on a run." I whispered.

He grimaced, expression guilty. "Yeah."

My good mood came crashing down. "Is anyone going with you?"

He nodded. "Maggie volunteered. She'll grab what Herschel needs and I'll get the most general supplies. We were thinking of heading out soon and going out further-maybe to an actual hospital. That will probably make it an overnight run."

"Are you crazy?!" I growled at him, fuming. "The hospitals were overrun because of the morgues housed those things, they were breeding grounds for them! And you want to just waltz in and take what we need. This is by far one of your worst ideas and I will not support this!"

"I know how ya feel about runs like this, Abi, but we _need_ these supplies. The pharmacy doesn't have what we need and the hospital would. I have back up, we're taking the truck so we have a better chance and we will take guns with us. We will be super careful, I promise." He pinned me with sincere eyes.

I didn't want him to go. It was dangerous and the last time someone I knew went on a run, they didn't come back. Everything in me was scared and pleading with him to stay, to send someone else.

"Why does it have to be you? Why not Maggie and Jimmy?" I asked, trying to keep from crying.

He sighed. "They have done their share of runs. It's my turn and I have some things I need to get."

I looked away. I couldn't stand it anymore, I cried.

"Hey, now. It'll be alright, you'll see. I promise I will come back safe, as soon as we get what we need." Willy vowed, hugging me against his warm frame.

"Please be careful." I pleaded, my anger gone as quickly as it had swept over me. "Please."

"Always." He assured me, rubbing soothing circles in my back.

He held me until I'd calmed down. I'm not sure how long it took, but I finally drew back and wiped my face dry.

"I'm thinking of trying to get an ultrasound machine, if I can." He said, finally ending the silence.

"Don't, if it will put you at risk. It's not worth your life, Willy." I had resigned myself to the fact that he was leaving shortly. I couldn't do or say anything to make him stay and I knew that.

"I won't. I've made it my mission to stay alive until that baby's born."

"He'll make you wait as long as possible then, and so will I."

* * *

Willy and Maggie quickly packed and cleaned up for dinner. It was a quiet affair, only the clinks of forks against plates could be heard in the room until the last person finished their meal.

The duo said their goodbyes, loaded the guns and supplies required for the trip into the truck and headed out.

I had begun to fuss and worry the moment I could no longer see the tail lights of the truck.

 _Please bring them back safe_. I prayed, closing my eyes and leaning against my window. _Let their path be clear and void of all danger_.

I tried to rest, but every time I closed my eyes, images of Willy being bit fought off the searching fingers of sleep. I read and paced, hummed all the songs that came to mind and fretted over the safety of the two scavengers.

Logically, I knew they were experienced and cautious. Emotionally, I was a worried wreck that had various scenarios of horror and death playing out in my mind.

Willy running for the truck, surrounded by a herd of walkers. Maggie and Willy caught in a hallway, surrounded on both sides, shooting until their last bullet before getting eaten. Maggie running to the truck and falling, losing her gun, a walker ripping her stomach open and eating her alive.

I shook my head and whimpered. _No! Stop it_! I yelled at myself.

I curled up as well as I could, rocking myself back and forth. I hugged myself and hummed songs my ma would sing to me after I had nightmares.

Slowly, it worked, chasing away the images and thoughts plaguing me.

Finally, when I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open, I lay down and slept.

* * *

I sighed, picking at my breakfast. The toast and oatmeal Beth had brought up for me didn't appeal to me. I'd eaten five bites of the toast and nine bites of oatmeal. That was the best I could do at the moment.

I blinked my tired eyes and glanced over at the young blonde. "Take it, I can't eat another bite." I requested softly, pushing the tray away.

I had stood with the intention of dressing and starting my chores by the time she came for the tray.

"You should try to eat more a little later. I'll bring snacks out for you in a bit." She said, closing the door behind her.

I changed into my faded blue sundress with small white flowers printed on it. The weather looked like it would be on the hotter side today, so I would need to prepare extra ice water bottles or Herschel wouldn't allow me to leave the house. The protective old vet.

I eased my way down the stairs to the kitchen. I was beginning to have a bit of trouble since I couldn't see my feet anymore.

"Three bottles of ice water all packed and ready to go." Patricia offered in way of greeting. "Here, take this one out with you."

I blinked, surprised. "Thank you."

"Be careful out there. If you get too hot, come in and we'll ice your wrists." She replied with a small smile. Her eyes were puffy and tired, circles forming under them. She looked older today, like she'd aged at least six years over night.

Sympathy flooded me. The service for Otis was yesterday.

"I will." I tried to smile back, but I wasn't sure if it fell flat or not.

I escaped the dreary mood of the kitchen and made for the front door eagerly. It had been a week since anyone collected from the hen house so I'd start with that. It wouldn't be taxing and I couldn't overdo it walking down a line of chickens taking their eggs.

The wire collecting basket and feeding pail were beside the door. Apparently Herschel knew I wanted to start easy.

I had made it down the front steps before I spotted the R. V and a splattering of tents.

What the hell?

"Who the hell are you?!" A hard voice demanded, an edge to the southern accent.

I spun to face the owner of the voice. He was tall, his head had been shaved and he wore overalls. His eyes were cold, his stance and body language were hostile. 

I trembled. The hostility of the stranger made me freeze.

"I asked you a question! Who. Are. You?!" He demanded again, the volume of his voice increased.

"Shane! Leave her be!" Another voice sternly snapped. "You're scaring her."

The man with the shaved head didn't move, glaring at me with eyes full of hatred.

My heart pounded in my chest and I dropped the wire basket to wrap an arm over my baby protectively, shielding it as best I could. I wanted to run, to flee, but I couldn't be certain that he wouldn't tackle me to the ground and hurt my baby.

I couldn't take the chance.

A bearded man with chin length hair closed the distance, his strides indicated he was annoyed. He pushed the one he'd called Shane, forcing him to take a step away from me. "Back off, Shane. I won't tell you again."

'Shane' backed away, tossing the other man's hands away from him and stalking off to the tents.

The bearded man turned his attention to me, the tension leaving his shoulders. He looked at me head on and I noticed that his eyes were different. Kinder. "I'm sorry about that. Are you alright?"

I shrugged, my eyes darting around him to the small crowd gathering among the tents.

"My name is Rick Grimes, I'm here with my group while Herschel fixes up my boy. What's your name?" He inquired, his voice quieter and kinder now.

"Abilene." I whispered, my trembling had stopped, but I still wanted to bolt. I didn't know this man and I didn't like that the people around the tents were staring at me.

"Abilene. That's a pretty name." He leaned forward a bit and bent down a little.

I flinched and took two steps back when his arm came close to touching my leg.

He straightened up, his hands held out in front of him like I'd seen in the movies. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Okay? I don't wanna hurt you."

I watched him warily, hastily reaching forward and grabbing the basket from him while keeping my eyes on him.

"My group don't want any trouble. Why don't you meet them? It might make you feel better." He suggested, his hands still raised placating. He was talking softly and calmly, like I'd seen Willy talk to a spooked horse.

I backed up, eyes wide. He wanted me to go over there?! There were so many of them! _He_ was over there!

My trembling started up again and I started to inch backward, watching Rick Grimes for any movement.

"What is going on out here?" A familiar and very welcome voice demanded.

I exhaled in relief. Herschel.

"One of my men scared Abilene. I was trying to talk her down." Rick explained, his voice as calm and soft as before.

I took the opportunity to hide behind Herschel.

"Abilene, sweetheart, go in the house. Beth will take your morning chores." Herschel instructed me in his fatherly voice.

I fled into the house, dropping the feed pail and bucket on the porch for Beth. I walked as quickly as I was able into the kitchen and grabbed a thermos of ice water.

Patricia turned to me, frowning in concern. "What happened?"

"Where's Beth?" I asked, avoiding the question. I didn't want to talk about Shane or Rick.

"I think she went to feed the cows in the second paddock. Why?"

"Herschel wants her to take over my morning chores."

"Did you get overheated?"

"No. Can you tell Beth for me?"

"Sure, but-"

"Thanks. I'm going to lay down for a little bit."

I didn't wait for a reply, fleeing to my room. I sat on the bed and took soothing breaths.

I wasn't sure what was going on with Herschel and Rick, or what the problem with that Shane guy was, but I did know one thing.

I wanted nothing to do with Rick or his group.


	7. Time Will Tell

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead, its characters, or its plot lines. I do not make any money in the making of this story.**

_**Time Will Tell** _

Herschel had come to me shortly after the scene in the front lawn.

"Would you like me to check on him?" He asked kindly, gesturing to my baby bump.

I nodded, wanting the confirmation that he was okay after all that stress and fear.

The vet proceeded with the exam, using the stethoscope even though we knew by now he only caught the heartbeat the one time so it was unlikely he would again. However, it was a bit comforting that he was looking for it anyway.

"Everything looks just fine, Abilene." He informed me, giving me a smile. "You can resume chores whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, Herschel." I murmured, the last sentence echoing in my head.

He pat my hand and left the room. I was left alone to sort my thoughts and feelings.

I didn't like that Shane character, that was certain. I had done nothing to deserve his treatment of me. A part of me was afraid that if I went back outside to finish what I began, that _he_ would attempt to finish what _he_ had begun.

That Rick couldn't pay attention to him every second of the day. I would be alone-vulnerable.

On the other hand, I couldn't hide in the house forever. . .

I fretted for a bit before deciding to just get on with my chores. Beth and the girls had done them enough for me already. If that Shane tried anything, I'd scream for Jimmy or Herschel.

I nodded determinedly, descending the stairs at a safe speed.

Patricia wasn't in the kitchen and I couldn't see Herschel. Patricia must have chosen to begin her chores and Herschel was most likely with the child or studying. I took the opportunity to prepare my drinks and snack. I grabbed the thermos and filled it with fresh ice water, packing it and a sandwhich in a lunchbox with the spare ice packs.

Prepared, I slung the lunchbox over my shoulder and walked out onto the porch.

I paused once I picked up the feeding pail and the collection basket, checking that the people from the gathering of tents had remained at the campsite. A small group had convened around a pick up truck, the rest were scattered amongst the tents and R. V.

I sighed, relieved, and walked to the chicken coop.

I noticed that there were less hens than I remembered from my last trip out here, but I also remembered that we'd had chicken for dinner a few times while I'd been confined to my bed. I smiled when I noted that there were more chicks than the last time I'd seen the coop.

I loved the fuzzy little things!

Before the world went to the dead, Willy and I were going to buy a farm. We had decided to primarily raise chickens, but we would also have horses and cattle. We'd selected this gorgeous piece of land, and were five thousand dollars away from purchasing it. . .

Then the dead came back.

We had to give up our dreams of having a farm, leaving Louisiana and heading for safety.

I pushed the depressing thoughts of unfulfilled dreams away and finished dispersing the feed. I laughed when one of the younger chicks tripped over two of its eating brothers in its eagerness to reach food.

"Easy there, little fella. There's enough for all of you." I whispered, setting down the pail to watch them a few more minutes.

Time. Time was flying here in the one place I felt safe. Soon, in roughly two months, I would be a mother. Part of me couldn't wait, I could hold him and see his face. Another part of me was beyond terrified, he would be born in a world of walkers and dangerous trips for supplies. He could be bitten or eaten at any time, any of us could.

No. I wouldn't think like that. Willy would protect us. So would Herschel and his family.

I shook myself mentally and entered the coop.

The familiar motion of walking down the line and collecting eggs soothed me. It was weird, but whatever works. Right? I didn't do bad today, just one egg over a dozen. I dutifully filled out the clipboard and signed, humming a tune I'd gotten stuck in my head somehow.

 _Hush a bye, don't you cry_ / _Go to sleep you little baby_

_When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little ponies_

I never could remember what verse comes next. I think it was a few lines of species of horses. Eh. What I remembered was enough to improvise when the time comes. I would sing the parts of lullabies and nurseries rhymes that I could remember and make up the rest. It couldn't be too hard to make up child appropriate verses for a song, people did it all the time before the world ended it.

"Hello there." A young, awkward voice murmured.

I jumped, turning on the spot. It was a stranger I'd seen with _his_ group.

"Shane said that you can come back and meet the rest of the group." He stuttered, gesturing behind him.

I tensed. That was his name, the one who'd been so hostile. Fear pumped through my veins, I didn't want anything to do with the Chinese man, he knew Shane. He must have read my face and started forward a few steps.

"Whoa, whoa. Its okay-" He rushed out, a few more steps closing the distance between us.

 _Whoa, buddy, that's close enough_! I thought, my free hand plunging into the basket. I'd taken an egg out and jammed it on his head before he had time to blink.

"Ah!" He jolted, retreating a few steps and blinked rapidly. He froze, seeing that I had another egg ready to launch in my hand. "Okay, message received. Sorry. Backing off."

He had backed off as he said he would, hands up. Strips of yolk and egg white dripped slowly down his face. Some cracked egg shell pieces were still stuck to his hair.

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Well, I'm glad you think this is hilarious." He muttered, wiping some egg whites from around his eyes. "I'm Glenn, by the way. Do you want to tell me yours? It's okay if you don't, but I thought I'd ask-you know, in case you did."

It was kind of adorable that he stuttered and ranted. I bit my lip, thinking about whether I wanted to answer.

"Abilene. My name is Abilene." I whispered, unsure of my decision.

"Abilene." He repeated, smiling in an awkward boyish way. "That's a pretty name."

"Thanks. So, Glenn, huh?" I inquired, curious.

"Yeah." He paused, seeming to think about something. "If you don't want to meet the group, that's cool. If you change your mind, at any time, just let me know and I'll introduce you. Take care of yourself, Abilene."

"You too, Glenn." I murmured, turning to take the remaining eggs inside.

Glenn. He seemed like a nice kid. Maybe not everyone in the group is like Shane. Maybe I was wrong about Rick Grimes.

Maybe. . . Just maybe. . . . I could be friends with Glenn and Rick.

Time will tell.


	8. Time Will Time Part Two

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead, it's characters, or its plot. I do not make any profit for the creation of this story.**

_**Time Will Tell Part Two** _

I thought more on my encounter with Glenn and whether or not it was a good idea to meet the rest of the group while I worked on the garden. Glenn was sweet, Rick seemed nice enough, it was Shane and the others I still wasnt so sure about.

I observed them a bit while I pulled weeds and worked the soil. Two groups of pairs had disappeared, Rick and Shane among them. The rest lingered around the campsite doing chores.

An older man with a slight beard had a kind, fatherly or grandfathrly way about him mostly stayed around the RV, but he also walked and talked with everyone in the group. Not one ill look was aimed at anyone.

The tall, brunnette I'd seen in the doorway to my bedroom had divided her time between the campsite and the house. I guess she is the shot boys mother or some other relative. I was tempted to ask what she was thinking just standing around staring in on me in such a vulnerable time. It would've been different if she wasn't a stranger or if she'd tried to help Herschel, but she didn't.

I wasn't certain if I liked her.

A woman with hair cut closer to her head was more interest, and heartbreaking, to watch. Something niggled at me each time I glanced at her, some instinctive intuition that told me she was hurting the most of the group.

A blonde girl paced on top of the RV or helped do chores.

I often caught them glancing or sometimes even openly staring curiously at me. I knew it was because I was pregnant and I got a little self conscious about how big I'd gotten over the months. I wasn't comfortable with them seeing how big and awkward I was.

Other than the brunette and Shane, the group looked alright.

Maybe. . .just _maybe_. . . .I could introduce myself and see how it went. I'd wait until Rick was back so I only had to do this once.

I had finished weeding, pruning, watering and working the soil and still the two pairs had not returned to the farm. It made me a little nervous.

Did they go on a run? I though back and remembered them on foot, no packs all weapons and cloth. They had also entered the woods. What could be in there that they'd want? Well, besides deer or rabbit. Hey. Maybe they went hunting and decided that pairs was safer because of the Walkers.

I pat myself on the back, proud of my clear memory and deduction skills. Lately, I had less of a clear memory with my pregnancy brain, as I called it.

It was beyond irritating.

I pulled off my gardening gloves and double checked that I'd done all the tasks I'd needed to. Yep. I gathered the tools and put them in the wicker basket since nothing was ready for harvest just yet. Now for the fun part, standing up without hurting myself.

Thankfully, I managed to stand up without injury. A flurry of activity drew my attention to the other people on the farm.

 _What on Earth?_ I frowned, walking a few feet toward the camp site, but not too close. The entirety of the group left behind ran for the wooded area, one or two shouted something I couldn't understand.

I understood why they ran toward the edge of the woods when four figures emerged from the shade. The pairs had returned.

Okay. This meant that I had to honor my agreement with myself and go introduce myself to the group. Rick was there, which meant that Shane was also. Maybe Shane wouldn't attempt any hostile behavior with the other man present? I could only hope. I took a breath and walked slowly toward the camp.

Glenn's group had begun to make their way back to their camp and were talking amongst each other. Mainly the two pairs.

I paused, three feet away from their camp and let them reconnect with their people. I smiled when the baby kicked and fussed, he must have felt all the excitement and decided to join in. I rubbed him where I guessed his back was, using where he'd kicked me as a clue. "No, little one, I didn't forget about you."

"Who's that?" A voice I didn't recognize asked from near by.

Apparently, I ruined the reunion by talking out loud to my little guy. Oops.

"Uh-" I stumbled over the words, taken off guard by the surprise question. This wasn't going as I'd planned.

The familiar rumble of a pick up truck caressed my ear drums and put a huge, relieved smile on my face. Maggie and Willy. I twirled and walked as quickly as possible to the end of the driveway. The beat up pick up I'd known and loved since childhood was a welcome sight as it tore up the road. The large white loader truck that followed, however, was unfamiliar to me.

I waited impatiently while both vehicles came to a stop, then walked quickly to the pick up truck. I frowned when I reached the passengers door and didn't see Willy in the drivers seat. _What_?

The drivers doors opened and I backed away a few steps to glance between vehicles. I ignored the footsteps and voices behind me, all that mattered was the tall frame that exited the white loader truck. _Willy_.

Willy grinned at me as he walked forward, his face and clothes filthy but neither of us cared. As soon as he was within reach I was in his arms, my fists clenched in his dirty shirt and his face buried in my hair. "God, I missed ya. How's little man?"

"He's great. We both are. We're even better now that you're home." I whispered back, happy tears trailing my cheeks.

"Here's some water. Wash your hands before you completely ruin her dress." Maggie interrupted, holding a bucket of water and a bar of soap.

We pulled apart and laughed, we had forgotten that he had dirty hands.

Willy obliged, washing his hands as quickly as he could with the bucket and soap provided. Once his hands were clean, he knelt in front of me and cradled my baby bump in his large warm hands. He rubbed his hands over it and kissed it twice before standing again and grinning at me.

"Alright, you have said hello to the little man, now you should start unloading." I told him in a voice that supposed to be firm, but relief and happy tears ruined the effect.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied cheekily, kissing my forehead and turning to do as I requested.

Maggie had already pulled the sliding door open and unloaded three boxes onto the ground. From what I could see, two had non perishable foods and one had extra blankets.

Excellent.

I walked to the pick up to see if there were lighter things that I could carry, make myself useful. I hated that there were some things I could not do and the others could, but it was out of my hands.

I spotted a small bag in the middle of the seat. It didn't look like it had much in it, so weight shouldn't be a problem. I opened the passenger door and leaned in, maneuvering my larger belly carefully to avoid injury and dragging the correctly guessed light bag toward me.

"What do you think you're doing?" A hostile and familiar voice demanded.

I froze, tension flooding me. Shane.

I was spun roughly and I immediately grasped my bump protectively, coming face to face with the hostile man glaring down at me. I trembled, attempting to back away. "I-"

"That doesn't belong to you." He hissed, dark eyes darker than anything I've seen in quite a while.

I couldn't speak, even though my brain screamed at me to tell him that I was allowed access to any part of that truck at any time. That my brother considered it mine as well as his.

It turns out, I didn't need to.

Shane was yanked away from me, slammed hard into the hood and a gun jammed under his chin. Willy stood over him, body tense, face cooler than a glacier and eyes burning hotter than a thousand coals in his fury. "Ya don't have the right ta touch her. Ya don't have the right to breathe the same air that she does. Ya don't have the right to tell her she did anythin wrong, especially when she didn't. What's hers is mine and what's mine is hers, includin this truck and whatever's in it. Now I don't care who the hell ya think ya are, ya touch her again, and I'll kill ya."

I watched, grateful and a tad nervous that he would shoot the asshole right then.

Willy released Shane, practically hurtling him away from him, and the man had to hurry to brace himself for impact. He ended up rolling a few times before he could push himself up. He dusted himself off and stormed past the members of his group that stood a few feet away, having watched the exchange with varying expressions.

My brother waited until Shane was completely out of sight before he put away his gun and strode to me, checking me over for injuries.

I patiently allowed it for a moment, then grasped his hands to still them and stared him directly in the eyes. "We're fine."

He nodded and the tension left his body. A smile took the place of his hard expression and he kissed my forehead. "I have a few things for ya both. Wait here, no peeking."

I rolled my eyes and dutifully remained where I was, excited about what he'd found on his run. He tried to find things that were special once in a while, to make this life a little easier. Something funny, something sweet, something unusual or just plain familiar. I appreciated anything he brought back, even if it was a small item like a scrunchie or new shoelaces.

He walked around the white loading truck with his hands behind his back and a skip in his step. The excited and eager gleam he had in his eyes only escalated my own excitement. He only dis this with the good stuff.

I waited very impatiently, with how slow he was going he may as well have been crawling toward me. Hurry up, I want to see what it is! I screamed in my mind.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of me and whipped the unknown item from behind his back.

Wait. . .was that . . .?

I squealed happily, throwing myself at him for an enthusiastic hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He laughed, willingly handing over the half gallon tub of vanilla ice cream and large package of teriyaki beef jerky. His face glowing as he beamed proudly, he always felt good about providing these kinds of treats for me. It made him feel like a good provider.

I dug in to the rare delicacy, swiping the jerky through the slightly melted ice cream and biting off a healthy portion. I hummed happily as I chewed. Heaven.

"Hey! How is it fair that she gets ice cream?" Shane hollered from six feet away.

Willy turned his own glare on the jerk. "Ya shut yer mouth right now! There ain't any special treatment goin on here, I just haven't distributed the rest yet. Ya forfeited yer share when ya touched her like ya did."

"That's horse shit!" The other man yelled angrily, storming closer.

"Come over here like that an I will not hesitate ta put ya down." My brother warned him, his gun ready. "I've had just about enough outta ya."

Rick stepped forward, a restraining hand on. Shane's chest. "He's right, Shane, you were wrong. Handling a lady, the way you did-a pregnant woman no less-can't go unpunished. Forfeiting your share of ice cream is just a start, we will work out the other part amongst ourselves."

Willy nodded. "Fair enough."

Maggie brought two coolers out and lay them on the grass. "There's one in there for each of ya. These two coolers can be kept in your camp. Ours in in a separate cooler."

Rick and Glenn took the coolers and placed them in the R. V. Dale stayed behind with a gun to make sure no one attempted to take their share early.

"Hang tight, lil lady, there's more where that came from." Willy grinned, gesturing to my ice cream covered jerky.

"More? This is nicer than we've had it in a while, and that's enough for me." I assured him.

He ignored me in favor of climbing into the back of the white truck. There was a few noises I couldn't place, maybe shuffling or shuffling? Then he climbed out and reached in to tug on something. A closed box that had been bigger than the other boxes they'd brought out and a longer, thinner box lay on top of it.

"What's that?" I asked curiously, hearing my question echoed among the group.

He set the boxes down and opened the thinner one. "Your old one is getting a bit beat up." He mumbled, a shy shrug as I peeked in.

My breath caught. Inside the box was a sky blue summer dress from the maternity section.

I barely registered someone taking the ice cream and jerky from my hands so I could remove the dress from the box. I held it up to my body and happy tears flooded my eyes. It was so soft and beautiful. "Willy. Its beautiful. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to. Yer down ta yer last dress an I've ruined the one yer wearing with my filthy self." He chuckled, his eyes honest and sincere. "Ya deserve better than this world, Abilene, and I'll give ya all I can as long as I can."

I hurriedly placed the dress back in its box and hugged the man. "You're too good to me, Willy Pickens. I can never repay you for all you've done for me already."

"One more surprise." He cut open the next box and I wanted to cry all over again.

Rattles, onesies, tiny shoes and pacifiers were all I could see from the top of the packed box, but it was enough to know that he'd brought back stuff for the baby. A teddy bear was also there.

"You should know he took down twelve walkers just so he could get that box." Maggie spoke up from my left, nodding to the box of baby stuff. "He refused to leave without it."

My mind blown with his thoughtful stubbornness and heart threatening to burst with love for this man, I smiled and did the only thing I could. "Thank you. For everything."

It would never be enough, but it was all I had for him.

He kissed my forehead and gathered both boxes back up. "Ya enjoy yer treats before the ice cream melts, I'll put this upstairs until yer ready for it. I know how important that whole nesting business is for ya."

"You have a good man there, if you don't mind my saying so." Rick said as I watched Willy walk to the house.

"Don't I know it." I sighed as I resumed eating. "So who's this?"

He followed my gesture to the short haired woman. "That's Carol. . ."

I listened to him say each name and greeted each in turn. Each responded kindly, giving me at least one compliment or kind comment.

Maybe we could all get along after all. . .

Time will tell.


	9. Daryl

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead, its characters, or its plot. I do not make any profit with the creation of this story. Abilene and Willy are the only thing that's mine.**

_**Chapter Eight: Daryl** _

~Daryl~

I stood beside the picnic table and watched the group I'd taken the time to get to know go about their day. It had been two days since Willy and Shane had their encounter, and the latter hadn't been seen much since.

That was fine with me.

Dale smiled kindly at me as he approached. "Shouldn't you be resting, honey?"

I had finished feeding the chickens and done my gardening for the day. My feet and back were aching, but when I _tried_ to sit, the little one made me uncomfortable.

"Yes, but he hasn't made that an option today." I answered, rubbing a hand over a spot he'd recently kicked.

"I'm sorry to hear that, honey." He replied in his soft, kind voice.

"It's all part of the miracle, though I imagine many wish it wasn't." I responded, smiling at the older gentleman.

He patted my free hand.

Our small piece of quiet was broken as a figure emerged from the tree line, limping toward camp. The odd shapes on either side off the head made me think of a certain hunter and his crossbow.

Daryl.

He had gone against all advice and went looking for the little girl yesterday, staying out even after dark. Carol, Rick and Glenn were on the edge of a panic attack when he hadn't returned by the time everyone went to sleep last night.

I observed the hunter walk to a tent that had a motorcycle parked nearby and squirrel carcasses strung between two trees.

Daryl Dixon wasn't an easy man for me to peg. There were moments where I could swear, he was about to do or say something decent. . .then he does the exact opposite and is completely surly. His redeeming quality, the only one thus far, was the devotion and determination to locating the missing child.

My eyes flicked to Carol. The woman was beginning to lose hope, I could see it. Nothing anyone had said so far was helping. Every time the search came up empty, another chunk of her hope dissipated.

Daryl and Rick were the only people from the group who seemed to still have hope that Sophia was alive.

I turned back to the hunter. There had to be more to him, whenever he looked at Carol I could see something different in his eyes. He wasn't as he seemed to be, but he didn't want anyone to know that he cared-even the slightest bit.

"Has he given you much trouble?" Willy asked, unwrapping a ham sandwich as he walked around to stand beside me.

"Only as much as he can fit in every moment of the day so far. He's been fond of acrobatics today." I replied dryly.

I was ready for a break, truth be told. I was ready to get this baby out and be able to rest without kicks or punches waking me up.

He set the sandwich down on the picnic table and bent over, cradling my baby bump in his large hands. "Hey, little buddy. Why don't ya give yer mama a break? Huh?"

I giggled, he looked a bit silly leaning over to talk to my belly with a smear of mustard on the corner of his mouth. The giggle turned into a mild glare when the baby quit fussing and seemed to listen to his voice.

"That isn't fair! I can't even get him to do that!" I protested with a frown.

My own child was showing favoritism toward his uncle. Boys! I huffed mentally.

Willy nuzzled his nose against my bump. "It ain't my fault he knows I spoil you both rotten."

"You think he behaves for you because you feed him special treats and brought him rare items found these days?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"No. That's just a sign of the bond we have as uncle and nephew." He grinned, kissing my bump a few times.

Okay, I couldn't stay mad at him. Darn it.

I smacked his arm as he stood up. "You can go back to herding cattle or whatever you were doing before you decided to stop by."

He grinned, remaining unphased in the slightest at my abrupt mood changes. He was used to them by now. "Yes, ma'am. Try to get a bit of rest before ya get back to working, please. He should be calmer now."

"He is, thanks." I grudgingly agreed, still a bit sore about him getting a response so easily.

Willy dropped one last kiss on my bump and stood, eating the rest of his sandwich as he walked toward the cattle pasture.

I sighed and lowered myself on the bench, settling for people watching while I had free time. Carol moved mechanically, more habit than anything, as she washed and hung laundry.

At times she would grab something she'd already washed to wash again. Andrea was still more concerned with pick up trucks and maps then helping with laundry.

I wasn't entirely sure where Lori was.

Daryl had disappeared into his tent and had stayed in there throughout my conversation with Willy and even after, while I sat at the picnic table. I suspected he was resting or preparing to return to the search.

I tried to remember if I'd seen him or anyone else do his laundry since they've been camped here. Not one instance came to mind.

I decided right then that I would see if I could do it for him. He'd worked so hard to find Sophia, the least I could do is clean his clothes if he wouldn't take the time to. Carol couldn't offer, she was barely able to wash her own laundry, the poor soul.

I nodded, determined. Pushing myself up was a bit difficult considering I'd gained some weight, but I managed.

I waddled over to Daryl's slightly more secluded tent and paused for a moment.

There wasn't a door to knock on and I wasn't sure he'd appreciate me shouting at him in his little campsite. I frowned, brain working for a solution. Should I try to knock on a tent pole and see if he hears me?

Ah, what the heck? Maybe he won't yell at me.

I tapped my knuckles on the nearest pole and waited patiently for any sign that he could hear me.

"What?!" A male voice growled from inside.

"Hi. Daryl?" I called uncertainly. He sounded irritated. I hadn't watched his tent closely, things might have happened.

The tent split in a flurry of movement and the slightly shaggy haired hunter emerged. "Yeah. Now, what ya want?"

"Well, I noticed that you were spending all your time in the woods and haven't gotten to your laundry yet. I am needing to do mine, so I thought I could wash your clothes while I'm at it. You can still search for the little girl and when you get back, you'll have fresh clothes." I bit my lip nervously.

"Why the hell would ya do that?" He snapped, his usual gruff manner. Blue eyes piercing me.

"After all you've done to locate Sophia, you deserve a fresh set of clothes to change into when you rest." I answered honestly. "You've done more than the others have. Carol should be offering, as the mother, but. . ."

He glanced behind me, shifting on his feet. He looked uncomfortable that I was trying to be nice to him. My suspicions were being confirmed.

"I can wash my own damn clothes." He growled, blue eyes narrowed.

"I know that, but I imagine you'll want to leave as soon as possible to start searching again. Doing your laundry will take away from your search time." I pointed out with raised eyebrows.

He grumbled, shifting on his feet and glaring at me as he thought over my words. "Fine."

I nodded, staying where I was.

"What now?!" He snarled, irritated.

"I assume you'll want to gather your laundry yourself. I don't imagine you want me in your tent." I answered calmly.

I knew the hunter got irritated easily if he was in the middle of something.

"Whatever." He grumbled, disappearing into the tent.

I waited patiently for him to emerge with the dirty clothes. I wasn't disappointed, even though he grumbled and made some things clatter against each other, he did in fact return with an arm full of clothes. I took them from him and chose to ignore his grumpy frown.

"Alright, I will go get these started for you!" I said cheerfully, turning and walking back to the laundry station the ladies had set up.

Carol was still in the cycle of washing, wringing, hanging and re-washing a handful of items from each load. Lori was sitting with Rick and Herschel on the porch. Rick was pale and looked like he was about to fall over if he hadn't been supported.

He seemed like a good father. He was nearly killing himself to give his blood to his son.

I hope I could be a good parent to my baby. I didn't know a lot about caring for a baby, I hadn't finished the books and then they had burned with the house.

I shook those thoughts away. It would do no good dwelling on it now.

I settled carefully beside a hand washer that Herschel and Maggie had slightly altered for me. The rhythmic, repeated movements comforted me and reminded me of home. We washed clothes like this, even before the world went crazy and the dead returned to eat the living.

My thoughts kept returning to Daryl as I washed his clothes and mine.

He had a look in his eyes.

He was not a bad man, neither was he as pure as freshly fallen snow. He was somewhere in the middle. He tried to be hard and cold, but it wasn't in him to be that way. A part of him cared and he didn't know how to deal with that. It made him angry-frustrated.

I can see the man you could become, Daryl Dixon. You just need time and subtle guidance.


	10. Laundry Dilemmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long, but it's been hectic. I posted two new stories and my muse liked them best for a while.

*~Abilene~*

I frowned, glancing between the hamper of damp clothes and the hanging line.

I could hang the clothes on the line, but I had heard that it was a bad idea for pregnant women to do that kind of thing after a certain point in the pregnancy.

So. . . .how the heck would I get them up there?

I glared at the line, wheels turning full throttle, going through every available option. The line was a good six inches above where I'd heard it was safe to attempt to lift things.

Maybe I could try stripping a few sticks, cleaning them, and then use them as a sort of extension.

Nah. That wouldn't work.

I'd more likely rip some, if not all, of the clothes doing that.

I highly doubt ripped clothes would be appreciated by the hunter who pretended he didn't care. Holes meant better access to skin, which meant greater chances at being bitten and I don't think he'd appreciate that.

A kick toward my rib caught me off guard, making me suck in a breath.

My little man was getting stronger as he grew, his kicks were harder now than they were a month ago. He could come along at any time now.

 _Stay in a little while longer, baby boy. Your space isn't ready yet_. I thought with a sigh. Another series of kicks were my answer.

"Hey, are you okay?" A concerned, one hair from panic mode voice asked.

I started, looking to my left. The big one, T-Dog I think his name was, hovered beside me like he'd either run for Herschel or try to provide any provisions I needed himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. He just kicked a bit hard is all. I'm alright." I breathed slowly in an out, rubbing the spots he had kicked. They would probably be a little sore until around dinner time.

"Okay, if you're sure." He murmured, still eyeing me like I would suddenly try to bite him or something.

I nodded, and then I had a figurative lightbulb flicker on.

"Hey, could you do me a favour?" I asked hopefully. _Please say_ _yes_ , I pleaded in my head. _You look like you would say yes to what I have in mind._

"Uh, sure. . ." T-Dog replied, though it was more of a question.

"I can't hang these up and if I don't, they will mildew. Could you pin them up for me, please?" I looked up at him with hope. He was taller than me and obviously couldn't be pregnant being a man. He also wasn't busy with life threatening search parties or blood transfusions. Those facts made him the perfect choice to help me.

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that." He nodded, a relieved grin on his face.

He totally thought I was going to ask him something else for a favour. If I were a turkey, I could totally milk this for all it was worth. Fortunately for him, I'm not a turkey.

"Thank you." I smiled gratefully. Yes! Problem solved. Torn clothes crisis averted.

"It's no big deal, don't have anything else I gotta do at the moment, might as well be useful to somebody." He began with Daryl's pile, eyebrow raised at what was obviously the hunters shirt, but he didn't ask.

I appreciated and respected that.

"I don't mean to be rude and you don't have to answer, but your name isn't really T-Dog, is it?" I asked, hoping it wasn't an offensive question.

T-Dog shrugged. "Nah, just a nickname. Nobody here knows my real name and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Too embarrassing?" I guessed, curious now but respecting the obvious boundary he set up.

"Yeah, you could say that." He chuckled. "How far along are you?"

"Nearing eight months and two weeks now." I smiled widely, lovingly stroking the growing bump. "He will be coming before too long."

He blinked. "Oh it's a boy?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I mean. . . I think it could be a boy, but all this walker stuff happened before I was able to find out." I frowned, wishing I knew for sure. "The morning it started I was scheduled for a sonogram at five that afternoon."

"I'm sorry you don't know, but you've made it this far. That counts for something good, right?" He smiled, still hanging Daryl's clothes.

He had a point.

"Yeah. You're right." I murmured, memories of those best forgotten days replaying in my head.

"Do you mind if I ask you where the father is?" He asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

I blinked up at him, body instinctively tensing. "What?"

"I mean, it's clear that Willy dude cares about you and the baby, but he ain't the father. He treats you more like a sister and you treat him like a brother. Which leaves a mystery man we haven't heard about or seen." He explained, shocking me with his insightful conclusions.

They hit the mark dead on.

I had hoped that no one had noticed the sibling bond and assumed that he was my husband or whatever. I had hoped that it would deter them from asking about the father, but in the span of lone minute, I was being proved wrong.

I wasn't sure I knew this guy well enough to spill my guts out to him.

"Look, T-Dog, you seem like a nice guy and you're being a great help to me at the moment. I don't want to be a jerk or anything, but we haven't really talked to each other much. The father-it's complicated and I'm not sure I know you well enough to talk to you about it." I felt like a total jerk.

"Yeah, you don't have to explain anything to me." He shrugged and his posture changed, revealing the awkwardness of the situation.

"Its nothing personal." I added lamely, feeling worse now that I'd made him uncomfortable.

He nodded repeatedly. "Yeah, yeah."

"Maybe we can remedy that." I rushed out, nervous and wanting to make the awkwardness and discomfort disappear. "We can ask each other harmless questions to get to know each other a little better. And maybe. . .you know, a bit later. . .one day. . .I will feel comfortable enough to tell you all about him."

He was quiet, making me sweat and. fidget nervously.

 _Please say something. . . Anything. . . You can even tell me it's a stupid idea, just say something._ I begged silently, biting down on my bottom lip.

"What's your favorite color?" He finally asked, breaking the silence.

I thought for a moment, sifting through memories.

Got it.

I grinned. "The clear blue the ocean turns when there aren't tides or tidal waves messing up the hue. So clear it's almost like looking through liquid glass, and you can see everything. All the life underneath your feet. An entire world down there, untouched by any of the bull that goes on on dry land."

I returned to my body, remembering that I was on a farm in the walker apocalypse and we were talking about favorite colors. "What's yours?"

"Green, I guess, if I had to pick just one color." T-Dog answered, he paused when he realized that Daryl's clothes were hung and it was now my shirt he was holding up to pin. "Uh. . ."

I blushed, coming to the same conclusion he had. My underwear and bras were in the basket. "It's fine. If you don't they will mildew and I will have to bother Willy to grab more on the next run for supplies. Just pretend they are yours if it will make you more comfortable."

He snorted, but hung up the shirt and grabbed the next item.

I let my eyes wander a bit. Shane, Rick. Glenn and Dale were gathered on the porch and it didn't look like they were having a pleasant discussion.

* * *

*~Glenn~*

Shane glared at Abilene's back as she and T-Dog talked. "What do we really know about her? Besides the fact that she's pregnant." He snapped when Dale opened his mouth to reply.

"It's not really our business, Shane." Rick reasoned, sitting in the single chair available.

"How is it not our business? For all we know she could have killed people or somethin!" He said, eyes blazing with angry fire and cooler than ice cubes. "Think about Carl-think about Lori!"

This was just getting more ridiculous and insane.

"Dude, she's pregnant, what do you expect she's going to do?" I hissed, glancing at the woman in question.

"Glenn is right. She's just a girl who's expecting a baby." Dale stressed the end sentence, kind and true as always. You could count on him to tell it like it is, no matter what you think or what happens.

"Shane, I don't think she's a threat to anybody, especially in her condition." Rick spoke in that deceptively soft voice of his.

"You can't know that! Plenty of women committed murder or theft while they were in her condition. It never stopped _them_." Shane growled, unrelenting.

"If she wanted to harm anyone in our camp, she would have done so already. She's had countless opportunities. Not to mention that she's lived with Herschel and his family for months without incident." Rick pointed out, not budging either.

"Not every killer began right away." Shane tried, again, to persuade us. "She is a threat, Rick, and we can't just let her-"

"That's enough! Abilene is _not_ a threat and nothing-look at me, Shane-nothing is going to be done to her." Rick had changed his voice to the intense cop voice he'd used more than a few times in the past.

Shane stormed away without another word and I sighed in relief. Thank God that was over.

I glanced over to the laundry section, scanning the area and landing on the topic of the argument disguised as a discussion.

Abilene was trailing Shane with her eyes, her face and posture worried.

Shit, we must have been louder than I thought.

I attempted to smile at her, but I probably screwed up, because she didn't lose the worried look.

_Damn._

* * *

*~Abilene~*

The conversation intensity escalated and Shane looked more frustrated as time passed. Dale, Rick and Glenn looked like they were ready for it to be over.

At one point, Rick changed, his lips moved faster and his face became harder.

He wasn't the kind father now.

He was the leader putting his foot down about whatever it was that they were practically whisper shouting over.

Shane got fed up at that point and stormed off, the glare he sent my way contained enough venom to kill an entire herd of cattle.

I turned back to the porch. Rick, Dale and Glenn were still gathered there, although they looked more relaxed now. Glenn caught my gaze and attempted to smile, but it was weak.

I drew the terrifying conclusion that the group on the porch were fighting over something to do with me.

There was no other explanation I could think of.

I was still staring at Glenn, thoughts in chaos, when the yell rang out.

" _Walker_!" Andrea yelled from the top of the R. V.

The camp jolted with life then, fear and uncertainty running wild as guns were loaded and feet flew for the tree line.

Time slowed down and sped up at the same time.

My heart pounded terror through my veins, I wouldn't be able to get up in time depending on how close it was to camp. Faces flashed through my mind. Patricia, Beth, Maggie, Jimmy, Willy.

A gunshot exploded through the air, taking away my breath.

Did it hit the mark? Was there more than one?

"No!" A voice yelled shortly after.

"It was Daryl!" Another shouted out amidst the chorus of exclamations.

Daryl?

Someone shot Daryl?

The news sunk in.

_**Oh my God!** _

Suddenly, laundry dilemmas, awkward conversations with T-Dog and venomous glares from the crazy cop didn't seem that important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. That just happened.


	11. Shot in the Dark

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of its characters. All OCs are mine and plot deviations as well.**

_**Chapter Ten: Shot in the Dark** _

*~Abilene~*

T-Dog helped me stand and I stared in helpless horror as Daryl was half carried half dragged into the farm house by Glenn and Willy.

 _Please don't die,_ I pleaded him in my mind. _Please don't die, please don't die, please don't die_.

I couldn't do anything to help, even if I wasn't heavily pregnant. I'd had no medical training or anything useful at all.

I thought back to the time I had spent at the farm, when Daryl's group came and the time since then. I only had insights about Daryl Dixon and hadn't really interacted with him aside from talking to him about washing his clothes for him. Before then, I caught glimpses of him through my window or during chores as he went about his business.

I caught sight of Andrea staring after them, wide eyed and pale.

An innocent life could be extinguished today and it was because she didn't wait until her theory was confirmed. She saw an injured man stumbling out of the woods and assumed the worst, then shot him.

Anger courses through me then, hot and red, and I flew at her. "You could have killed him!"

"Whoa!" T-Dog shouted, startled, and tried to carefully pull me off of the blonde.

I punched at every part of her that I could reach, anger boiling under my skin. "He wasn't even a walker! He was hurt! You should have waited until you could see him properly!"

"Abilene!" T-Dog was nervous and not totally trying, which worked to my advantage.

I hit harder, growing angrier each time I thought about what happened.

"I was just trying to protect the farm!" Andrea yelled, arms raised to defend herself. "I was doing my job."

"That's not good enough! You almost killed a living person!" I stopped at that point, still angry but my stomach was starting to hurt and I was becoming tired. I carefully scooted away from her, glaring.

Andrea lay still for a few moments, panting, before she stood up and walked to the house.

I clutched my large belly and counted my breaths. Breathe in. I was fine. Breathe out. We were fine. And repeat.

I cried out, unbelievable pain exploding throughout my baby bump.

No. No, no, no, no! Not now! Please, don't let it be now. It's too early! Panic gripped me, as the pain continued. I grit my teeth in an attempt to be quieter since I was outside and walkers are drawn to noise.

"Abilene? You okay?" T-Dog was eyeing me nervously.

I wasn't sure how to answer. These were very likely contractions and I wasn't even nine months yet. I didn't have much to go on, since I hadn't done this before. "I don't know. I think-I think I'm in labor."

If possible, he started to freak out worse than I was.

"What?!" He yelped, eyes widening to the side of dinner plates. He glanced between my face and bulging stomach. "Oh, shit-Ohhh shit! Okay, uh, breathe. Just breathe. . .ah. . . . We need the doctor."

"Don't just stand there! Help me inside! I am not having a baby in the yard!" I snapped, the pain making my voice harsher than I meant to be.

"By myself?" He asked, voice raising an octave.

"Oh, for God's sake! Go get Willy!" I growled, annoyed at his reluctance.

T-Dog ran for the house, leaving me bent over beside the hanging clothes. Alone, very possibly in labor.

My mind was a mess. I might need Herschel, but Daryl needed him, too. What if Herschel chose to help me and Daryl died because the vet wasn't there? What if he turned and no one noticed until it was too late? What if my baby dies during delivery? What if I die before Herschel can get my baby out?

I did something I hadn't done for atleast two weeks.

I prayed.

"Dear heavenly father, I know I haven't spoken to you in a little while, but please let my baby enter this world healthy and alive. Also, please don't take Daryl into your holy kingdom just yet. He has a lot of good in him, I've seen it, and he hasn't opened his full potential yet. But, I know he will if you give him more time. In your holy name, I pray. Amen." I began to breathe easier now that I knew He had heard my words.

Whether or not He would answer is another matter.

* * *

*~Glenn~*

Herschel was stitching Daryl up, Andrew's bullet had only grazed him, but he had other injuries to worry about. He had taken an arrow through his side among other smaller injuries caused by a tumble.

Herschel said that Daryl had lost a lot of blood and that the added stress of being shot had knocked him out cold.

Unfortunately for all involved, he was awake now and was understandably unhappy.

Willy and I were standing in the doorway, we had already given our account and were waiting in case Herschel needed us to restrain Daryl.

T-Dog ran up the stairs, panting.

"T-Dog? What's going on?" I asked, startled at his sudden presence inside. He was outside with Abilene, hanging clothes when we came inside.

He ignored my question and focused on Willy. "Willy! You gotta come with me now. It's Abilene."

Abilene? I frowned, confused. We just came from outside, there were no walkers. Just an injured Daryl returning from a hunt.

"Abilene? What happened?" Willy asked, immediately protective and concerned.

"She's in labor!" T-Dog gasped, grabbing the other man's arm and almost dragging him down the stairs.

She was what? She wasn't due for another few weeks, at least.

I glanced between Daryl and the stairs. Should I stay with Herschel or go with Willy and T-Dog to check on Abilene?

There were three people with her, only I was with Herschel and Daryl.

I would stay.

 _Please be okay, Abilene, please be okay._ I pleaded in my head.

* * *

*~Abilene~*

I focused on breathing, but I heard the exact moment Willy was outside.

"Abilene! Are ya okay? Has yer water broke? How far apart are the contractions? We're supposed ta time them, right? How far apart are they?" He ranted in near manic concern and excitement.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm alright, Willy. Yes, you're supposed to time them, but I don't know how far apart they are."

"Okay, we should start timing them now. Ya need ta remember those breathing exercises." He inhaled and exhaled in short, rapid bursts. Too short and rapid, so he started swaying a little.

"Hey, dork, you're doing it wrong. . .and that's for pushing, not contractions." I giggled, but he got an A for effort. He really was trying hard to be supportive and helpful.

Wait. . . .the pain was gone. It didn't hurt to laugh anymore.

Willy blushed, oblivious to the realization I'd had.

"I think it stopped. The pain is gone." I frowned, waiting a few moments just in case. Yep, the pain was definitely gone.

Both men sagged in visible relief, but Willy also showed signs of minute disappointment.

I flinched, feeling guilty for all the fuss I'd caused. It was a false labor.

"Since you're here, can you help me inside? I think I'm ready for a nap." I murmured, shifting uncomfortably. There was more pressure on my pelvis now and it was becoming harder to get comfortable when sitting or sleeping. Naps had become essential.

"Of course, you never have to ask." Willy replied, like I knew he would. He was so good to me, even though I sometimes wasn't too nice due to hormones.

I would be eternally grateful to that man.

It was awkward, passing Rick on the porch. Carol had gone inside at some point. I slowly walked up the stairs, blushing like a tomato whenever someone looked at me. I couldn't reach my bedroom quickly enough.

I laid down on my bed and pulled the sheets up to my chin.

"If anything happens holler fer me and I'll get Herschel." Willy told me seriously, kissing me on the forehead.

"I will, promise." I whispered, already dozing off.

* * *

I almost didn't make it to the toilet when I woke up, but thank goodness I did.

"Is a bonfire really a wise choice, Rick?" Shane growled, his voice low and strained. "You know as well as I do that walkers are drawn to the light. The fences will only keep out so many walkers before the whole damn thing breaks and a herd comes through."

"We need to think about mental health, too. If they become too involved, too stressed, too hopeless they could want to give up. We need a night without fear, all of us." Rick insisted, hearing none of Shane's bull.

I was hungry, really hungry, but I didn't want to interrupt. The last thing that would help my case with Shane is him thinking I had eavesdropped on them, accidentally or otherwise wouldn't matter.

I waited, impatiently, while they walked back toward Daryl's temporary room.

Which reminded me, I needed to check on him myself.

Maybe I could bring him food since I was going to go to the kitchen anyway? But I didn't know what kind of food he liked. Did he have any food allergies? I guess I could bring him a bit of everything and he could choose what he wanted. I also needed to ask permission to put his clean clothes in his tent so other people could use the line.

I thought back to the bonfire as I descended the stairs. My conversation with T-Dog played in my mind.

Carl was still on bed rest, so I wouldn't have to worry about that.

There was a chance my idea would blow up in my face. Shane would hate me more, and there was a chance the rest of the group wouldn't want anything to do with me after tonight.

I made a plate with leftover baked chicken breast, roasted ham with pineapple slices, mashed potatoes, green beans, Mac and Cheese, and some sliced fruit. I heaped the plate high, thinking whatever he wouldn't want or couldn't eat, I would.

I knocked on the door to Daryl's temporary room, listening for his reply.

"Yeah, what?" He called out gruffly.

"I cracked the door so he could hear me better. "It's Abilene. I brought you some food, in case you were hungry."

"Well, come in if yer comin' in." He groused.

I see the injuries and near death experience hadn't changed him much. He was still gruff and trying his best to act like he was made of marble. Neither surprised me.

He was covered in a blanket from the neck down when I walked in. That did surprise me, but only a little.

"I didn't know what you liked or if you had allergies, so I brought a little of everything." I explained when he scowled at the plate. I set the plate down on the small bedside table and backed away. He didn't immediately start eating and I was getting nervous, because I didn't know what was in the food exactly, so I could still accidentally kill him.

"Whatever the hell is making ya think so damn hard, quit." He snapped, irritated.

"You don't have food allergies, do you?" I asked, ignoring his mood.

"How the hell should I know?" He dug in, tearing into the ham. "What do you care if I have em or not?"

"Maybe I don't want to kill you." I snapped, finally becoming agitated with his attitude. "Eat it, don't eat it, I don't care. I was trying to be nice to ya, ya asshole."

I waddled out of the room and felt a twinge of guilt for calling him names and getting cross when I was about half way down the stairs. I sighed, carefully turning and doubled back, walking to his room.

This time I didn't knock.

He was picking at the plate when I entered the second time, his head snapped up as the door swung open. "I'm sorry I raised my voice and called you an asshole. You have had a bad day, you're injured and have a reason to be cranky. There is a bonfire tonight, if you want to come."

I left Daryl, unsure if he would elect to join.

There was also the matter of speaking up at the bonfire.

Each was a shot in the dark.


	12. Shot in the Dark Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ BEFORE YOU START THIS CHAPTER!!!!
> 
> Rape is mentioned. Do not proceed if you are faint of heart or its a trigger for you.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. Unrecognized plot or character(s) are mine.**

**WARNING! Mentions of rape!**

**Chapter Eleven: Shot in the Dark Part Two**

*~Abilene~*

I made myself a plate of baked leftovers, since Carol had to fry their meat with some unidentified canned substance. The smell of it made my stomach turn, and it was very obviously not healthy for me, so I declined as politely as I could.

Which, considering the fact that I was fighting the urge to throw up, was not as polite as I usually am.

I carefully carried my plate and glass of ice water outside, waddling down to the steps and over the lawn to the group gathered around the fire.

Everyone but Carl and Daryl were present.

Andrea sat between Glenn and T-Dog, Lori and Rick beside them. Shane and Dale were sitting on the tail ends of each half of the circle, though clearly they didn't like the seating. I stopped on the outer edges, hesitating.

"Hey, guys. Do you. . .um. . .do you mind if I join you?" I murmured, glancing at each fact to try to guess if they wanted me there.

Shane glared at me, the dark gleam in his eyes unsettling. He was looking at me like I had single handedly shot Carl and declared that the rest of them were next on my hit list. The rest were smiling or nodding and gesturing for me to join them.

"Oh. Here, let me." Glenn, the sweetheart that he is, jumped up from his spot and piled a spare chair with pillows.

"Thank you, Glenn, that was so thoughtful." I could see him grin shyly and blush, shrugging it off.

"It was just-you know women in your-it wasnt-you're welcome." He rambled, finally settling on the proper response to 'thank you'.

I sat down in the chair he had prepared for me. It was comfortable and supported my back.

"We were sharing a few stories about life from before." Glenn informed me, producing a chair from behind a nearby tree. "We haven't heard from you, yet. How about it? What did you do before?"

"Willy and I were going to buy a farm." I blushed when T-Dog raised his eyebrows.

"I can see it. Willy seems like he could work the land." Andrea commented, smiling as she leaned forward in her seat. "Was there a farmhouse like Herschel's in the plan?"

"Yes, actually. There was a porch swing and a wrap around porch." I sighed, picturing it.

"What did I miss?" Willy called as he trotted over to us.

"I was just telling them about the farm." I answered, smiling at him. I hadn't seen him much today. "How was your day?"

"Not so bad. There weren't any walker sightings, and I didn't lose any of Herschel's today." Willy answered, stretching in his seat with a groan. "How's the little man doin'? Any more pains?"

"He's good." I bit my lip and glanced at the others, remembering what I had promised myself earlier.

No time like the present.

I motioned Willy to scoot his chair closer to me. If I was going to do this, I would need the support of the person I trusted most.

He obeyed, titling his head curiously, but he didn't comment.

"T-Dog, do you remember when you asked about his father?" I checked, stroking a hand over my stomach.

"Yeah." T-Dog replied hesitantly.

"Do you remember what I told you?" I caught the confused glances and full out stares from the group. Shane was glaring at me with narrowed eyes, immediately suspicious of my questions.

"That it was complicated and you might tell me once you knew us better." He answered with a confused frown. "I don't understand. What-"

"I have decided to change my answer. I realized something when Daryl was shot." I paused, thinking back to that moment. How it felt to think he was dead. "This might be the best I know any of you. Right now. Anytime, anywhere, one or more of us could die-from anything."

Stray nods met my short speech.

"So. . .I decided that now is the best time to share the story you want to know." I spared a look at Lori and Rick. "It's better if Carl isn't here, Lori. I'm not telling you this to be mean, it's the truth. You wouldn't want him to hear what I'm going to tell you. Some things are worse than being eaten alive by the dead."

She frowned, curious and still offended. I ignored that in favour of keeping my breaths even.

"My birth name isn't Abilene Pickens, it's Treskov. My parents weren't nice people. They were both addicted to something. My mother was a drug addict who would do literally anything for a fix or money for one. My father was addicted to alcohol and loose women. They were an explosive combination and there tended to be a lot of incidents." I trailed off, lost in the memories.

Willy wrapped a supportive arm around my shoulder and squeezed gently. The pressure kept me entered and reminded me that they were only memories. They couldn't hurt me anymore.

"I wasn't planned, just a result of unprotected sex while almost constantly under the influence. My parents were angry, another mouth to feed meant less money for alcohol and drugs. She wanted to abort me, but he talked her out of it. Once I could walk and talk, they used me to get the money they needed for their addictions-the only value I held to them. That value didn't stop them from taking their toxic personalities out on me. When I was six or seven years old social services removed me from the home. Antoni Treskov and Anya Sanovich were arrested for a long list of things. Willy's family adopted me when I was eight years old." I smiled, warmth filling me as I remembered the family that took me into their hearts as well as their home. I turned to look at Willy. "They saved me."

"Not to break the lovely spell of family found and soul saving you've woven," Shane spat sarcastically with a sneer. "But what does this have to do with your kid?"

Andrea and Glenn glared outright at Shane. T-Dog and Dale shook their heads at the disrespect. Willy tensed beside me, preparing to strike if necessary. Rick sighed like he had just put several tons on his shoulders and Lori ignored all of them.

"If ya would shut yer mouth an' learn some patience ya'd know by now." Willy hissed at the former cop.

"Willy, please." I murmured softly, squeezing his hand. There had been enough shouting and animosity today.

Shane was a man who used to have a good soul, but it was tainted and changed by the new world. Willy still had a gentle spirit and a kind soul, even after all this. I didn't want him to become like Shane.

Willy ground his teeth, but settled back into his seat and rubbed the curve of my shoulder.

"Lets get back to the story, shall we?" I subtly looked pointedly at Shane. Not another word, I said with my eyes. "I finished my childhood with Willy and there were the teenage years. Anyway, about ten maybe ten and a half months ago, I went out with a small group of my college friends to celebrate graduating."

Willy's hand tightened its grip and his body grew tense again. He knew the ending of this story.

"I made the mistake of taking a drink my girlfriend gave me. I thought she had bought it while I was dancing, but someone had given it to her and she was allergic to one of the ingredients in it. I didn't feel anything at first, didn't notice anything off about any of it. It wasn't until I got dizzy and lost the ability to move on the way back from the restroom that I knew." I had to stop for a moment. I needed a breath.

A few of the women gasped. T-Dog's eyes widened, Glenn was gaping in shocked hooror and poor Dale looked like he wanted to weep. Rick looked like he was torn between throwing up and being angry.

Willy was almost vibrating next to me.

"The fist few minutes were confusing and unclear. I couldn't move, so I didn't see who grabbed my feet and dragged me through the back exit of the bar. I could hear laughing and at least three voices. It didn't take long to realize that I recognized the one that seemed to be the leader, even with four of them there." It was getting harder to speak around the lump forming in my throat and tears were burning in my eyes. "He . . .he r-raped me first."

"Abi, ya can stop if ya need ta. Ya don't have to tell them the rest." Willy assured me with a trembling voice. He couldn't stand to see me in pain, he told me once he'd rather cut out his beating heart than see me hurting in any way.

"No, I can do it. I can finish." I ignored the pity on a few faces in the group and squared my shoulders. I was strong. I could do this.

In. Out. In. Out.

"As I was saying, that happened and then they took turns. I wasn't surprised that he didn't recognize me, it had been at least twelve years and he was drunker than six skunks. The last time he saw me. . .was when the social service agents drove off with me in the back of their car." I rushed through the last bit, ashamed and half hoping the group wouldn't catch it.

My hopes were for naught. The reaction was immediate.

"Your father? You got. . .he r. . .your father is his father?" Rick choked on every word, his face pale as a sheet and quickly tinting green.

Glann, T-Dog, and Andrea had similar choked, stringy responses. Dale looked like he wanted to weep for me or hug me, the sweet man. Lori was gaping at me, horrified. Carol was staring at me with wide eyes but didn't speak. Shane was silent for another reason entirely.

"What the hell are y'all makin' those faces for?" A rough southern voice growled as the owner limped up to the fire.

I turned as well as I could to greet Daryl. "Hey, I was just sharing the story of how I got pregnant."

"That's putting it mildly." T-Dog muttered, running a hand over his face.

"I caught the bar thing an' some of the adopted bit. That don't mean they gotta be looking atcha like that." Daryl commented in his rough voice, gesturing at the group. "What happened weren't yer fault. He was a sick man who enjoyed hurting other people, that's his problem."

My heart warmed in my chest, and I felt my smile as it split my face. I appreciated that he didn't look down on me or pity me like the group was at the moment.

I could sense an almost imperceptible change between me and the hunter. Something had shifted, however small and seemingly insignificant.

Daryl Dixon was a good man, and he was beginning to show his colors. Little by little.

I wouldn't rest until I saw him at his full potential.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead franchise or its characters. Any unrecognized plot or characters are mine.**

**Quick A/N: Okay guys, I know this is taking longer than you'd like-it's taking longer than _I'd_ like-but there are some things that I'm having trouble finding places for that are really important. Please be patient with me? Just a little while longer?**

**I have a treat this chapter. . .**

Chapter Twelve

My sleep was broken and filled of mixed dreams. The conception of my son and a herd of walkers overruning the farm starred in my nightmare.

When I rose for the day I was still tired and hardly felt like I'd rested at all.

A part of me was glad that I had gotten the story of my sons patronage over with and now I didn't have to hide it anymore. On the other hand, I wouldn't be able to stand the pitying expressions from Rick's group forever, so something had to change.

I grunted when a good solid kick landed on my kidney while I was peeing. I immediately rubbed the spot, trying to soothe the ache. "Darn, little boy, you got strong. Can you not kick me so early?"

Another solid kick was my answer.

I sighed and finished my bathroom routine, heading slowly down to breakfast. It was getting harder to walk down the stairs every morning with no visibility and feet that often ached, but I managed alright.

The smell of cooking meat assaulted my nose and I quickly covered my nose, gagging.

I was beyond ready to stop feeling nausea every time someone cooked sausage, chicken, ham, or deer.

Just a few more weeks to go.

I accepted the plate Patricia offered me and took it outside, where I could eat my breakfast in the fresh air. Today's special was two lightly seasoned chicken patties, three eggs sunny side up and two slices of plain toast.

I looked out over the farm as I tucked into my food. I loved the view of the yard and the fields around the property. I wished, not for the first time since the world went to the dead, that things had been different. I wished that Willy had been able to buy the farm we dreamed of and moved us into the beautiful farmhouse on the property.

Halfway through breakfast I noticed the tension and strained conversations from different members of Rick's group. Mainly the focus of the tension was Rick himself, Lori and that asshole Shane.

Was that my fault? I hadn't seen them like this before I told the group about my story.

Shane has been worse since our first encounter. He and Rick have butted heads more than a few times since their arrival. I feel that soon all the friction over the week will reach a boiling point and a line will be crossed that no one can come back from.

I wasn't sure where Daryl stood in all this.

He hadn't spoken to me since he had showed up at the bonfire, chewed the groups ass and then told me in no uncertain terms that what happened that night wasn't my fault.

I appreciated his support last night, more than I can say, but he was still very closed off.

Speaking of the gruff hunter, Daryl had moved back into his tent for the remainder of his recovery.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that Carl was out of bed as well and outside feeding chickens under the watchful eye of his mother. His colour was better than had been last reported, so that's a good sign.

He was officially up and on the mend.

My eyes caught sight of Willy talking to Rick and Glenn, their faces grave. I didn't like that Willy had that look.

It never bode well.

I brushed the bad feeling away for now, carefully standing and brushing the dust off the back of my dress before taking my dishes inside. Patricia was cleaning up, and bless her heart, she'd thought to open a window to let the kitchen air out while I did my chores.

I squeezed her shoulder in thanks and grabbed the thermos of ice water she had ready for me. "I'm gonna go walk laps after chores, so don't send the cavalry If I'm not back in before lunch."

"I'll have Beth or Maggie bring you a fresh thermos before you go. You shouldn't walk laps in this heat without at least one." Patricia reminded me softly.

"Thank you, Patricia." I waved and made my way to the garden.

I liked working in the gardens. I was able to be helpful and pull some of my very considerable weight. Both were great news for me since I hated feeling like a useless burden.

I let my mind drift while I worked, humming contentedly.

A lullaby Willy's mother used to sing me popped into my mind, making me smile.

I had had terrible nightmares so I was afraid to go to bed, often forcing myself to stay awake and would pass out at random times during the day. A week after Willy's mother took me in, she found out about what I had been doing and why. She started to sing me to sleep and she also sang to me when I had bad flashbacks.

I really missed her.

"What is that?" A small voice asked from behind me.

Carl.

"Something my mother sang to me when I was young." I answered, setting my tools to the side so that I could stand for a break. "It was the greatest song in the whole world back then, or so I thought."

I stood and turned to face my young visitor. I watched in amusement as Carl's eyes widened when he saw my large belly.

"You're pregnant?" He asked, curious and surprised.

"I am. You want to feeling him kick?" I asked, feeling the first hard kick to my spleen.

He watched my face, eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure out if I was okay to be around.

I grunted, flinching a little when the kicking was accompanied by a few punches. "Ow."

"Are you okay?" A voice asked that wasnt Carl's.

I nodded, taking slow even breaths.

Rick said something softly to Carl and the boy ran relaxed camp, probably to his mother. Once his son was out of hearing range, he turned to me. "Is the baby coming? Do you need Herschel?"

I shook my head. "No, it's nothing like that. He just figured out that he can punch me, is all."

The man winced in sympathy. "Carl did that to Lori in the last two months."

"I'm glad that he's getting better." I offer honestly, smiling at him.

"Thank you." Rick replied, voice a little hoarse.

"You don't have to thank me, it's the truth." I dismissed him with a wave of my hand.

"All the same, thank you. I'll leave you to your chores." He smiled at him one more time and left me by the garden.

I glanced at the position of the sun.

It wasn't quite noon yet.

The heat was acceptable, there had been no sightings, the day was young and I still had plenty of water in my thermos. Now was as good a time as I would probably get to walk my laps.

I would walk around the edges of the fence all around the property, steering clear of the barn and pasture.

My path decided, I donned my satchel with my thermos and set off for my first lap.

Rick's group was spread out more today, I noticed. Dale and T-Dog were walking to an area further away from the farm with water buckets.

Maggie must have told then that they can use the well out that way. To my knowledge, it wasn't being used for the cattle or us at the moment. One of the other wells was boarded up, I didn't ask why.

Not long after Dale and T-Dog left for the well, Dale came back in a hurry and the next trip to the well was with more members of the group. I could see that Lori, Shane, and Glenn were among them.

Maybe they needed more buckets. I shrugged and continued walking. Not my business.

I was halfway through my second lap around the property when a commotion started in Dale's direction.

I turned to try to see what caused the commotion, as I did, I noticed a familiar small form wearing a sheriff's hat slink off toward the woods.

What was Carl thinking?! There were Walkers crawling all over the woods!

I turned to the group at the well. They were too far away to walk over to warn and have them here before Carl got lost or hurt.

Shouting started, the commotion at the well escalating.

"Lori! Lori!" I shouted, waving my arms.

Nothing.

I huffed in frustration, they couldn't hear me.

I bit my lip, glancing between the well and the woods. I had no choice, I didn't know where Rick was, Lori couldn't hear me and I was closest so I could grab Carl then get out in under ten minutes.

With a defeated sigh, I made my way toward the woods as fast as my size allowed.

I glanced comprehensively around me, keeping watch for Walkers. I had caught clear prints for Carl and I was following them further into the trees.

A look up told me that I'd been out here longer than I'd planned. The sun was higher in the sky now, creeping closer to noon.

I frowned when I checked the ground again. The tracks had become more difficult to make out, they weren't as clear as they had been before and I wasn't experienced enough to read them correctly.

Great. Just my luck. I thought miserably.

I couldn't just give up though. So. . .I made a guess with what I could see.

I turned right and kept walking.

"Carl?" I called. "Carl?"

My feet were really starting to bother me and my back was killing me. I'd have to find somewhere safe to rest before long.

A twig snapped nearby and I jumped, my heartbeat picking up.

"Carl?" I whispered hopefully.

My other option was rather unfavorable.

"What do you want?" A small voice I didn't recognize demanded, fear in their voice.

I blinked. Where did that voice come from?

Squinting, I searched the area and noticed something weird about what I had dismissed as overgrown brush. "I'm looking for someone. Why are you all the way out here? It isn't safe."

"I got lost." The small voice answered.

A little girl's voice.

"I know some really nice people on a farm not too far from here. We have food, water, and warm beds to sleep in. The animals are really cool, too. I could take you there if you want. You could stay until we find who you lost, I'm sure they're looking for you, too." I offered, hopefully convincing ans soothing her.

As I suspected, the brush rustled and a small hand emerged, moving it aside to reveal a dirty face with sunken cheeks and chin length matted hair with leaves in it.

My heart twisted in my chest. This poor child. She had to have been out here at least a few days.

"My name is Abilene. Do you know yours?" I asked gently.

"Sophia." The child whispered back.

"It's nice to meet you, Sophia." I smiled at her, holding out a hand. "Can you come out, please?"

She hesitated, but nodded, slowly crawling out of the brush.

She was a tiny thing. So thin. It broke my heart to see a child in such a state.

I held out my hand to her again.

It took some more coaxing, but Sophia did take my hand and allowed me to tug her along with me as I began to walk back the way I came.

I retraced my steps, keeping careful watch for signs of Walkers and Carl.

I wasn't seeing either.

The sun was climbing higher, the heat rising with it. I'd given Sophia a good amount of my water, and we were both tiring. I still hadn't caught sight of Carl by the time Sophia and I crossed the tree line. I could only hope that the young boy had made his own way back to the farm unharmed.

The alternative was unthinkable.

I tugged Sophia with me through the huge yard, though she preferred to hide behind me. There was a large commotion at the camp, panicked voices shouting many things and several bodies running.

I almost cried in relief when I saw Carl among them.

"Abilene?!" Willy screamed, panic lacing his voice as he ran. "Abilene?! Where are you?!"

Guilt at his panic ate at me. I wanted to ease his fears, let him know I was safe and home.

"Willy! I'm here!" I shouted back, waving.

Thundering footsteps approached, the mass of bodies running to greet me as I walked toward the farm.

Willy pulled ahead of the crowd, yanking me into a hug as soon as I was in arm's reach. He pushed back, his face turning a dark red. "What the hell were ya thinkin'?! Going off on your own in your condition! You know better than that!"

"I'm sorry. I saw Carl go in the woods and you were too far away. I called for Lori but she couldn't hear me, something was going on at the well." I stopped my explanation when he just continued to glare at me. "I'm sorry."

His face crumbled. "Do you have any idea what I would do if I lost you?" He asked me, his voice thick and breaking in the last bit.

Guilt swarmed me.

I hadn't told him where I was going or what I was going. He didn't know where I was, possibly for hours. In this world, that meant death or worse.

Our moment was ruined by the pounding of feet.

The group had caught up to us.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself to face the music, so to speak.

I wasn't prepared for the shocked expressions on all the groups faces as they gaped at a place behind me.

"Sophia?!"


	14. And Unto Us. . .

**Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead or it's characters. Any unrecognized plot or characters are mine.**

**I apologize for the long pauses between chapters. I've researched some of season two to try to get a feel for time lines, since I've extended things for Abilene and kind of lost track of where I was in the time line shown in The Walking Dead.**

**Song for this chapter:**

**From Here to the Moon and Back by Dolly Parton-slightly modified.**

Chapter Fourteen: And Unto Us. . .

I blinked awake, groaning as my full bladder made itself known.

Painfully.

I forced myself up and relieved said screaming organ as quickly as I was able.

It was very warm tonight. Not quiet hot, but had the potential to become that dirty clothes I wore were soaked in swear and stuck to my skin in certain places.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the smells wafting from the shirt. Ew.

I wouldn't be able to shower by myself in that excuse for a tub the Greene family has. There was too much of a risk I'd fall and hurt both of us, maybe even kill the little guy.

The thought of such as thing was unbearable. I had to play it safe.

 _May as well get it over with._  I thought grumpily with a sigh, grabbing the bell next to my bed and giving it a good shake.

Thundering footsteps approached, surprising me a bit.

The door flung open, a wild eyed, breathless Willy burst through and immediately sought me out. "Are you alright? Is it the baby?"

I shifted awkwardly. "I just need one of the girls to help me clean up a bit."

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. "But I could do that."

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. This wasn't happening. I hid my face in my hands, groaning as my cheeks burned.

"What? Why are you-?" He stopped talking, and I could almost hear the click as the meaning of my words registered. "Oh. Oh! I'll just. . .um."

I peeked through my fingers in time to see his face flush tomato red as he gestured in the vague area of the door and fled the room without another glance in my direction.

I felt like my face was on fire and I wanted to be swallowed by a conveniently placed sink hole.

I was saved from wallowing in my humiliation by the girls coming to my rescue. Okay, I'll admit, rescue was not the right term for what always came after their arrival in these times. Being washed by other people was a new kind of humiliating, as was the curse of the helplessness felt during the whole event.

Beth suggests that I try to relax and think of something else.

Yeah, no, sweetheart that ain't gonna happen. It is impossible to pretend that you are on the beach or what have you, when you're being washed and you know for a fact that it's not by your own two hands.

I obviously didn't say it out loud, the poor thing would've cried and her feelings would've been hurt, she's so sensitive.

I grit out a thank you when the deed was done and descended the stairs as fast as I could to find a way to occupy myself.

It wasn't all that hard. Shoot, the opportunity practically fell in my lap!

Rick and his group were throwing me a thank you bonfire in an hour. Apparetly there would be food and a rougher version of familiar games from before.

It was sweet, yes, but I wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea.

I hoped I was wrong.

Preparations of food, beverages, and sitting spaces had taken up almost all the time before the bonfire was set to begin.

Herschel agreed, just this once, that it was alright to use the chairs from inside the house but they were to be washed thoroughly before we returned them. He gave us a long lecture on little critters that could hitch a ride into his home on the chairs if we didn't wash them.

Rick agreed enthusiastically, and the chairs were moved outside in record time.

The food was a greasy, sinfully delicious smorgasbord of things I probably shouldn't eat, but decided to splurge on just this once.

The handmade burgers with the secret family seasoning recipe were one of the first things to be made. Jimmy snuck me one to eat just to try it and my mind was immediately blown. It tasted fantastic! I could even use the word addictive, since I grabbed two more while he was busy flipping another set of burgers.

I took my loot to the spot I'd chosen and dug in to a burger.

"Abilene, you know that's not a good idea." Willy narrowed his eyes at me sternly, hands on his hips as he stood in front of me.

I froze, guilty.

"Well, it's only a few burgers, Willy. I've been keeping a healthy diet until now; everything baked or roasted, hardly any junk food, barely any sweets, no soda or caffeine. I have been good about not complaining or sneaking stuff I shouldn't, and I wanted to treat myself a little bit, just this once." I cranked up the shine on my eyes to full power and stuck out my bottom lip just a tad.

"No. Now, don't you try that, Abi, it won't work this time." He told me firmly, stance and tone unwavering.

 _Well, shoot. I gave it my best shot_. I sighed, handing over the burger I hadn't eaten.

He ate said burger in front of me, which I supposed I deserved for the sneaking and diet breaking.

Everyone was outside, including Herschel and his family, to my surprise. Conversation flowed easily and laughter was frequent, happy vibes echoed throughout the group clustered around our, slightly muted for safety, bonfire.

Of course, it couldn't last forever.

"Why did you help us? You have no tie or obligation to our group. Or to Sophia." Carol asked during a lull in conversation, something in her eyes told me she needed to hear my answer, needed to understand.

I thought for a moment, constructing a logical reason for my actions.

"In a world like this, we don't know how many uninfected humans are left or where they are. For all we know, everyone here is all that's left. If that is true, we have to support each other or all is lost." I murmured, each word a stab to my heart. "Sophia is a child who was lost, starving and alone, in this world there is nothing worse to be."

I uselessly wished the world wasn't so.

The group sat in solemn silence, pondering the grim truth of my words.

After a little while, Glenn disappeared for a short time and came back with a guitar.

Willy's face lit up like a Christmas tree. I laughed, making Beth look at me like I'd grown a second head.

"Hey, Glenn, can I try it out?" Willy asked, tentatively reaching a hand out, eyes alight with hope.

"Sure, man." The other man answered, handing over the guitar without complaint. "You know how to play?"

Willy checked the sound of each string first, making small adjustments to a few, then burst into a little tune I recognized. His fingers strummed and glided across the strings with an ease that came from years of practice.

Glenn nodded. "I'll take that as a yes."

I closed my eyes, letting the sound wash over me. We needed this, something to brighten a dark night in a ruthless world.

Willy changed the tune to a song I hadn't heard in a long time. He stood and moved closer to me, playing the opening as slowly as possible. "You remember this, Abi?"

I shook my head quickly, knowing what he was doing. "Oh, no. No, no, no. You sing it."

"You know darn well I can't sing it by myself, it's a duet." He replied, cool as a cucumber, a grin on his face.

I groaned. He was right, and I knew he wouldn't give up until I caved.

"Fine." I sighed, resigned.

I'd do it for the children, they could use happy songs right now.

I ignored the raised eyebrows and confused expression thrown my way as Willy played the opening of the song from the beginning.

"This is something our mother sang for me a few times when I doubted the sincerity of her love for me." I said in way if introduction to the song.

I _could hold out my arms,_

_say "I love you this much"_

_I could tell you how long I_ _will long for your hugs,_

 _How much and how far_ _would I go to prove,_

_the depth and the breadth of my love for you. . ._

I smiled at Willy briefly, and his voice joined mine.

_From here to the Moon and back,_

_Who else in this world will love you like that?_

_Love everlasting_

_I promise you that_

_From here to the Moon and back,_

_From here to the Moon and back_

I glanced around the group, landing on the pair of parents. Faces and words of a world past spun behind my eyes as I remembered my own mother singing this very song to me.

_I want you to know you can always depend,_

_On promises made and love without end,_

_No need to wonder how long it will be_

_Now and on into eternity_

I locked eyes with Willy, singing directly to him even though we sang as one. I poured all my love, gratitude and all the words I wanted to day to him into it. Because of him, his family, and their endless love I was almost completely healed. I owed them everything.

_From here to the Moon and back,_

_Who else in this world will love you like that?_

_Forever and always,_

_I'll be where you're at,_

_From here to the Moon and back_

_From here to the Moon and back_

Willy smiled at me. He knew.

After a brief glance at the varying expressions around the campfire, I lifted my gaze to the stars. One star in particular twinkled bright and beautiful close to the moon.

_I would blow you a kiss from the star where I sat,_

_I would call out your name to echo through the vast_

Willy sang the next line in his deep tones, the slight twang familiar and comforting.

_Thank heaven for you and to God, tip my hat_

_And I'll spend forever just proving that fact_

_From here to the Moon and back_

_From here to the Moon and back_

Lori, Rick and Carol were looking at their children the way my mother had looked at me. I knew the song was the right choice, they were happy.

"That was beautiful, guys, thank you for sharing it with us." Dale murmured with a wet smile.

The compliment was echoed in some variations by almost everyone. The exceptions being Shane and Daryl. Shane was scowling in his typical fashion, leaving the circle altogether rather than speak a decent word about our performance.

I shrugged it off, Shane was an asshole. I enjoyed singing, the children enjoyed the song so it was a win win for me.

Daryl was quiet, thoughtful. He left not long after, heading to his tent.

I smiled back at the group of fellow survivors who smiled at me, feeling lighter than I had all day. I developed the urge to walk around, get some alone time while I could. I flagged Willy to grab his attention. "I think I'm going to stretch my legs a bit."

"Be careful, don't go too far." He called as I started walking away.

"I won't, I promise." I called back over my shoulder.

I set off with no distinct direction in mind, the light breeze fresh and welcome against my face.

I'd just cleared the chicken coop when something pressed against my abdomen.

What the? I thought, confused. I glanced down and my blood ran cold.

The barrel of a gun was directly on my abdomen, pointing straight at my child.

My arms were jerked painfully backward and hot breath hit my ear with every exhale. "Make a sound, and I'll shoot. Try anything stupid, I shoot. Now, we're gonna talk a little walk through the woods. Turn left."

I could do nothing but obey.


End file.
